Episode 26, VS7.5 - In the Trenches
by Voyager Season 7.5
Summary: Some interesting ruins are found during a routine stopover.


Voyager Virtual Season 7.5  
  
In the Trenches  
  
By the vvs7.5 Writing Staff  
Compiled and edited by CyberMum and Penny  
  
Prologue  
B'Elanna gripped her console in anticipation of their exit from the slipstream.   
She glanced around engineering, noticing that everyone had grown silent.  
It wasn't that the exit would be rough, but that they were once again, if   
everything went right, going to be within about 3500 light years of home. Like   
they had been a month and a half ago.  
"Well?" someone shouted as the ship came to a halt.  
"Hang on," Joe called back. "Give the bridge a few minutes--the engineers are   
down here today, so we have to be patient."  
She smiled. "Where ever we are, we need to bring systems back on line. Let's get   
to it."  
There was a series of cheers. "We did it!" "Only two jumps and we're home!"  
*^*^*^*^  
ACT ONE  
(Day One - Voyager)  
Captain Kathryn Janeway sat at the head of the conference table and studied her   
senior officers. The transition out of slipstream was no longer new to them, and   
they should have been quite comfortable with the routine. But no one, not a   
single officer, looked anything remotely like 'comfortable.' In fact, the mood   
around the table seemed to swing from overtly excited to oddly tense: Megan   
Delaney couldn't stop grinning, B'Elanna was smiling broadly, and Tom's eyes   
danced with anticipation. Neelix couldn't seem to remain still; his head was   
bobbing as he leaned first to his left to whisper to Tuvok and then to his right   
to say something to B'Elanna. In contrast, Harry Kim's shoulders were so tense   
from the effort to appear nonchalant that it looked like he really might strain   
something. Tuvok and Chakotay, the two most naturally stoic of her senior staff,   
looked at her so blankly that she knew they were both working at concealing   
their thoughts.  
No, she might as well face it: this was not just another transition period. This   
was almost - almost - the last transition, and that made it unique. One more   
jump, two at the most, and they would be back in Federation space. She felt her   
own excitement begin to build and tamped it down firmly. There was a time for   
Captains to show their emotions, but this wasn't it. "Well, people, let's have   
it. Ensign Delaney, where are we?"  
Megan almost bounced from her chair as she moved to the wall console. With a   
quick touch, it illuminated to show a standard grid map of space. It showed a   
binary star system with half a dozen planets, with a thick asteroid belt between   
the fifth and sixth planet. "We're about half a light year from this system.   
We're still trying for confirmation, but we think we are on the edge of the   
Taugan sector."  
"The Taugan sector?" Harry repeated, his eyes opening widely. "But that's -"  
" - only 3200 light years from Earth," Chakotay finished for him. He smiled.   
"Funny how our perspective changes. Remember when that sounded like a tremendous   
distance?"  
"It's on the far side of Romulan space and that makes it a long way," Janeway   
said. "Does the Federation even have any maps of this region?"  
"No," Megan replied. "We've never had an exploratory mission in this area.   
Everything we know is second hand - some from the Romulans, some from a few   
independent ships that made it in and out."  
"All right." Janeway nodded with satisfaction. "More important than where we   
are, do we know when we are?"  
Megan's grin, already seemingly at full power, managed to broaden. "We're right   
where - when- we're supposed to be, Captain. Thirty minutes later than when we   
entered the slipstream."  
Janeway felt herself relax, and realized that she had been unconsciously worried   
about another temporal accident. They had made five jumps since leaving the   
Caephidians and returning to their own time, but each had been, in Paris's   
vernacular, a nail-biter.  
She allowed herself a small smile. "Good. All right, people. You know the drill.   
Lt. Torres, where do we stand with our ore supplies?"  
B'Elanna leaned forward, her eagerness showing on her face. "We've got enough   
for one more jump, Captain."  
"Then we need more."  
"Captain?"  
"B'Elanna, the one thing we've learned is that the 'best-laid plans oft gang   
a-gley.'" When B'Elanna's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar reference, Janeway   
continued. "What if something goes wrong with the next jump but we can't find   
another source of ore? I want enough for at least two more jumps before we try   
again."  
She watched as B'Elanna bit her lower lip and leaned back in her chair. Janeway   
thought that her Chief Engineer wanted to argue but apparently knew her Captain   
was right. That, or she had finally learned to pick her battles. "Mr. Neelix?"  
"The replicators went offline with the jump again," he said.  
That wasn't really a surprise. It had been a recurring problem with the   
slipstream. "B'Elanna?"  
"Replicators aren't first priority. We'll have them up in three to four days."  
"Well, then we're fine," Neelix said. "We've got enough foodstuffs for about two   
weeks, then we could break into emergency rations if necessary."  
"And the status of rations is --?"  
His eyes shifted around the table, a sure sign he didn't want to say what he had   
to say. "Uh, we're down to less than two weeks of rations. The ship was only   
stocked with a year's supply to begin with, and after eight years we've really   
eaten into that. Oh. No pun intended, Captain."  
"I know." She considered. If all went well they wouldn't need any more emergency   
rations and probably not much more food. So far, the damage to the replicator   
system from the stresses of the slipstream had always proven minimal and repairs   
comparatively easy, once the Engineering staff had time to address them. But she   
couldn't rely on the past, not on this mission. "We need to lay in supplies. I   
want to have at least a month of fresh food available. B'Elanna, what's the rest   
of the Engineering report?"  
"It's pretty routine, Captain," she answered. "Most of the major systems are   
down, but we should have the key operations functional in 48 hours or less. The   
usual secondary systems are also down but it shouldn't take more a week to be   
optimal again."  
She nodded. "Doctor?"  
"We had no casualties, unless you want to count my cellular regeneration   
experiment. Sickbay is at full capability."  
"Very good. Tuvok, how did Security fare this time?"  
"The torpedo and phaser systems are still down, although Lt. Torres assures me -   
" he cast a rather pointed look in her direction - "that will be rectified   
within eight hours. Shields have already been restored."  
"Excellent. Harry, can we re-establish contact with Starfleet? They must be   
wondering what happened to us."  
Harry, still looking tense, nodded. "It shouldn't take long. Once we confirm the   
vector between here and the MIDAS array, it's just a question of sufficient   
power to send the signal. We'll need a little more than usual because of the   
interference from that binary star."  
"Get it done," Janeway said. "They haven't heard from us since before our little   
trip through time took us off course. We don't want to let them worry any longer   
than necessary."  
She laid both hands on the conference table. "As I said earlier, you know the   
drill, people. Mr. Paris, I want you to take a scouting expedition into that   
planetary system. Our top priorities are kolander ore and foodstuffs. Ms.   
Torres, your people know what to do."  
Then she stood. "I know we're all feeling somewhat ... edgy. It is possible that   
one more jump will bring us into Federation space. But that will not happen   
unless we all do our jobs, and do them the way we are supposed to. I'm counting   
on each of you to convey that to your departments.  
"We are almost home, my friends. We can't let a lapse in concentration delay   
that any longer."  
After almost eight years together, the staff knew when they had been dismissed.   
They stood and filtered out of the conference room. All of them, that was,   
except Chakotay. When they were alone, Janeway turned to him with an arched   
eyebrow. "Yes, Commander?"  
"Nothing in particular. I thought you might have something else to say."  
She glared at him for a moment, then smiled widely. With him, at least, she   
could show her true feelings. "Oh, Chakotay!" she said. "We're going to make it   
this time. I really think we're going to make it."  
He opened his arms and she glided into his embrace. After a moment, she murmured   
into his shoulder, "This isn't very captainly."  
"To hell with that," he said, tightening his grip on her. "It's okay to relax a   
little. You've got us almost home."  
Something in his voice caused her to pull back and regard him. Lately, he'd been   
quiet when the subject of home came up and now he sounded distinctly   
unenthusiastic. "'Almost' isn't good enough. Did you see Harry? I think he's   
absolutely terrified something will go wrong."  
"You can't blame him. Look how close we were before we were thrown back to the   
Delta Quadrant."  
Her eyes narrowed, as she became certain she was interpreting him correctly. "If   
I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried, too."  
"Worried? No." He smiled at her, but it lacked conviction. "I'm just a realist.   
Who knows what we're going to have to cope with next."  
His attitude irritated her, and she let him hear it in her voice. "You don't   
think we're close to home?"  
"Of course we're close. We're just not there yet."  
"I see." She walked until she stood across the table from him. There was no   
point in trying to cheer him up through logic; she had been trying that for   
days. Perhaps a different approach would work. "What would you say if I told you   
I am so sure we are almost home that I will not touch you, not so much as a pat   
on the cheek, until we land Voyager at Starfleet Headquarters?"  
This time, his smile had genuine humor in it. "Kathryn, you spent close to eight   
years without touching me in any significant way. Why do we want to go through   
that again?"  
He was right; they had waited too long to get together for her to make a game of   
their relationship, and she smiled wryly. "All right. Then I'll do something   
else ... I won't have a single cup of coffee until we're home."  
He considered. "You can't do it."  
Pleased with his reaction, she said, "Try me. That's how much faith I have that   
we'll be home soon."  
"You're on." He turned and began to leave, but just before the door opened, he   
turned. "No coffee, no espresso, no latte, no decaf, no Vordai blend?" When she   
nodded in confirmation, his eyebrows shot upward. "What do I get if - no - when   
you give up?"  
"Never challenge me, Commander. If I can't keep this promise, you can name your   
prize." She pointed to the door and he turned to go. Just before leaving,   
though, he looked back and flashed a wicked grin.  
Pleased that he seemed to be less gloomy, she sat down. Home. The idea was   
overwhelming. There was so much of the past to absorb, and so much of the future   
to shape. And so many debts to be paid. Oh, yes, she thought so fervently it was   
almost a prayer. Do your jobs well, people. We're too close now to fail.  
^*^*^*^*  
(Day One - On the Delta Flyer )  
"Take it easy going through these asteroids, Cadet," Tom Paris warned. "Don't   
depend upon your shields to take care of anything this size. They're big enough   
to cause some serious damage if they hit at just the right angle."  
"Yes, sir," Icheb replied from the helm of the Delta Flyer. "What is the status   
of our shields, Cadet Wildman?" he added.  
"They're at 94 point 7 percent efficiency and holding, sir," Naomi replied,   
after a short pause to check her console.  
"Excellent," Icheb replied. He couldn't quite keep the grin off his face.   
Hearing Naomi call him "sir" was a thrill. This was the first time they were   
handling the Delta Flyer as "senior away team members." Lieutenants Paris and   
Carey, their instructors, were to intervene only if a problem the cadets   
couldn't handle became manifest. Tom, at the tactical station, and Joe Carey   
back at engineering were, in reality, the junior officers on board the Flyer. It   
was the cadets' mission to survey the system. The captain had been suitably   
impressed by their progress to approve their "command" of this mission.  
Icheb tilted the attitude of the shuttle to avoid another asteroid heading   
lazily towards the Delta Flyer, barely slipping over its rocky surface.  
"That was cutting it pret-ty darn close," Tom observed. "I'd watch that 'hot   
rodding' if I were you, Cadet."  
"I'm flying the way you taught me, sir," Icheb said, with a self-confident air.  
"And you may be able to drive that way, too, once you've got the same amount of   
experience I do!" Tom said flippantly, with one eyebrow raised Tuvok-style to   
soften the comment.  
"Oh, please, children, behave!" Joe ordered, shaking his head and grinning.   
"You've got the sibling rivalry part down cold, even though you aren't   
officially the 'Paris brothers' yet!" Shrugging his shoulders, Joe turned   
towards Naomi and said, "What's a parent to do? Cadet Wildman, how about finding   
us some ore deposits so these two will have something else to squabble about   
besides who gets to use the family shuttle!"  
Naomi stifled her laughter and assumed what she and her mother had agreed was   
the classic "Starfleet junior officer" voice. "I'm detecting large amounts of   
kolander ore in this asteroid field, but the deposits are widely scattered on   
different chunks of rock. There's not a concentration anywhere. Most are   
surrounded by a multitude of small asteroids. It could be difficult to get what   
we want out without damaging the 'family shuttles,' Lieutenant Carey."  
Tom smothered a laugh of his own before asking, "What about the quality? We   
might be willing to take a few risks if we can obtain ores that won't take much   
processing."  
"Not so good. I'm finding ores containing 5 to 10% kolander, at best. The   
remaining material is silica laced with trace metals. Using the transporter or   
tractor beam to bring out the ore might not be cost-effective. We'd use a lot of   
power to obtain a relatively small amount of material of the quality we need for   
the drive."  
"We shouldn't be wasteful of our power reserves now. There's no way to know what   
other problems we may encounter during our final jumps to Earth," Icheb said.  
Tom and Joe nodded their heads at the same time. "A fair appraisal of the   
situation from both of you. What action do you suggest we take, Cadet . . .   
Icheb?" Tom hesitated. He'd been on the verge of saying 'Cadet Paris,' but they   
had agreed that would be premature until they'd received word the formal   
adoption procedures were complete.  
"We will maintain our course to the other planets, looking for richer lodes of   
kolander ore, as well as dilithium or other minerals we can mine quickly. We   
want to be prepared in case Voyager runs into any more 'glitches' with the   
slipstream," Icheb responded. "The positions of asteroids containing desirable   
mineral deposits have been recorded in our mission logs. We can always return if   
nothing better is found."  
"I concur, Cadet," Joe said approvingly.  
"What heading do you recommend, Cadet Wildman?" Tom asked.  
"Long range scans indicate possibilities deeper into the system. The third   
planet looks particularly promising. It's on the other side of the star, but   
it's M-class, with an atmosphere of 18% oxygen; 68% nitrogen, with argon and   
trace gases. It has two moons. Neither one has an atmosphere.  
"Then there's the second planet. It almost has a twin--the moon circling around   
it is about half the mass of the planet itself. Do you still call it a moon when   
it's that big?"  
Tom thought a moment. "Probably. I'll bet there's a heck of a wiggle in their   
orbits. Almost like Seven walking down the corridor in those stiletto heels she   
always wore."  
Once the laughter had died down, Naomi added, "I don't have enough data about   
the orbits yet, but the second planet is a lot like Venus in our solar system.   
The atmosphere is very dense. Lots of sulfurous compounds and other noxious   
gases. It's a Class K. I don't think we'll have the time to build pressure domes   
to do much mining there."  
"What about the moon?" Joe asked.  
"That one's Class L. The atmosphere is extremely thin, but at least it's almost   
half oxygen, with the rest argon and some more sulfur compounds, too --I'll bet   
it smells like rotten eggs down there. I'm detecting evidence of volcanic   
activity. It should be just barely habitable by Starfleet standards."  
"With an atmosphere like that, we'd need breathing apparatus for strenuous   
activities like mining. I hope we don't have to go there," Icheb remarked as he   
swung the Flyer towards the pair of spheres, one covered in swirls of dusty   
ochre clouds, the smaller a dull gray.  
Joe, studying the same read-outs Naomi had in front of her, whistled long and   
slow. Naomi enlightened Tom and Icheb. "No such luck," she said. "There's a very   
rich vein of kolander on the moon--about 55% pure--and only about 100 kilometers   
away, there's even a dilithium deposit. And all very close to the surface."  
"Bingo!" Tom said. "Not what I'd call a prime vacation spot, but we can always   
break out the Tri-ox. It may have been around for a long time, but hourly Tri-ox   
injections are a lot easier than fussing constantly with breather masks."  
Naomi nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, Lieutenant Paris, but the temperatures   
will be extreme and there's not much water. The whole moon is virtually a   
desert. It would be a miserable place to set up operations. The deposits are   
near the north pole, at least, but the M-class planet may have a more favorable   
location for mining. From the readings I'm getting, it's got climatic conditions   
a lot like Earth's."  
"And maybe the miners would be able pick up something for lunch there. Eating   
from ration packs gets old pretty quickly," Tom said.  
As the Delta Flyer headed towards the third planet, not much was said beyond   
what was needed for navigation. Whenever Icheb looked around at the others at   
their stations, they seemed to be gazing back at him. It was more like through   
him, he knew. If Icheb hadn't been flying the shuttle, he'd be tempted to spend   
most of his time looking, too, for the closer they came to the glowing,   
cloud-streaked globe, the lovelier it appeared. At one point, Naomi said it   
looked just like a sapphire lying on a piece of black velvet.  
"Not much higher animal life," Naomi reported as they assumed a high orbit   
around the M-Class planet's equator. "Small animals, rodents, lizards, insects,   
etc. But this planet is teeming with plant life. The forage teams will have   
plenty to choose from. The nutrients the crew needs--it looks like they're all   
here."  
"Sounds good. Here's hoping it tastes good, too!"  
"What, Tom, you're not hoping to find lots of leola root to replenish our   
long-lost stocks?" Joe asked.  
"Please! No! That's all we'd need! But what about kolander or dilithium? I   
wouldn't mind taking a working vacation down there," Tom said.  
After a minute, Naomi sighed. "Sorry. There's some, but the deposits are more   
like those in the asteroid belt. Widely scattered, and very low quality. The   
richest deposits I can see are under 8% kolander. And I'm not getting any   
readings for dilithium at all."  
"Are you sure you can't detect any life signs, humanoid or not?" Icheb asked.  
"I'm not detecting anything bigger than a Tika cat."  
"In that case, maybe Chakotay will volunteer for a little planetside time. He'd   
probably like having someplace new to explore. Myself, I'd prefer lying on the   
beach. Or maybe doing a little skiing with B'Elanna on that glacier on the   
southern continent."  
"So, is that it? Are we done?" Joe asked.  
"Hmm. I don't know," Naomi replied. "I'm getting some interesting readings from   
the moons. Especially from the larger one."  
"Ore deposits?" Icheb asked.  
"Some, but there's also anomalous readings--almost like alloys, not   
naturally-occurring compounds. I can't identify them from here."  
"We will assume orbit around the larger moon," Icheb said, glancing over at Tom   
and catching his slight nod of approval.  
"Whatever is down there--it must be really small. I can't get a visual," Tom   
said, peering over Icheb's shoulder as the Delta Flyer passed about a kilometer   
above the surface.  
Joe mused, "What do you say, Tom? Feel like volunteering for mining duty? I   
wouldn't mind if I could take a little side trip to solve a mystery."  
"I doubt we'll be doing any mining down there, Lieutenant Carey," Naomi said.   
"There's not enough kolander to bother with, and again, I don't see any   
dilithium. It looks like Venus' L-class moon is where the mining operation will   
be."  
"That's a shame. Those compounds aren't showing up in the database to be   
characteristic of those used by any known space-faring race."  
"You know, Joe, if we ask just right, the captain might be willing to let us   
check it out, just to satisfy our curiosity. We are space explorers, after all."  
"I think you're still smarting from Seven's getting to go over to John Kelly's   
spacecraft instead of you, Tom," Joe teased.  
Tom grinned. "You're right, I am! But then, my first duty was to my patient,   
Chakotay, and to the Flyer. This time, Icheb gets to be the responsible one who   
has to stay with the ship. I can volunteer for the grunt work!"  
"As long as Captain Janeway gives you permission," Naomi pointed out.  
"Yeah, you're right. We're supposed to help ferry the foraging and mining teams   
from Voyager to the sites." Tom sighed longingly, still staring out the   
viewports, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was causing the mysterious   
readings.  
Icheb lifted the Delta Flyer up into a higher, safer orbit over the moon, taking   
one more revolution over its barren surface before plotting a heading for the   
return to Voyager. "Cadet Wildman," he stated crisply, "contact Captain Janeway.   
Transmit the coordinates we recommend for mining and foraging operations." He   
glanced back at the two lieutenants, who were gazing expectantly at Icheb. "And   
add a request for our team to return to explore this moon, once our 'ferrying'   
duties are completed. We wouldn't want our 'junior officers' to be tormented by   
an unsolved mystery all the way back to Earth."  
"Now that's a command decision I heartily approve of . . . brother!" Tom   
laughed.  
^*^*^*^*  
(Day One, On Voyager)  
Janeway entered the Astrometrics Lab smiling. So far it had been a good day. No   
unpleasant aliens (no pleasant ones either), Icheb and Naomi had successfully   
completed their first mission as senior team members, and Lieutenant Kim had   
just announced that his variation on the faster-than-light communication   
protocol was ready. Yes, it had been a good day--the only thing missing was   
coffee. She looked expectantly toward Harry.  
"Captain," Harry said. "We're almost ready to transmit."  
Janeway smiled. Harry managed to keep his exuberance in check. Ever since the   
accident, they'd not heard from Starfleet. They didn't even know if their one   
attempt at sending a datastream had been successful. She wanted this to work, so   
that their families would know they were still alive. And would be home very   
soon. She knew Harry and Vorik had spent the past twenty hours programming and   
testing so they could use the faster-than-light communication protocol. If all   
went as planned, they would have thirty-eight minutes a day to talk with family   
and friends.  
"Tachyon relay established," he said. "We're receiving a return signal."  
The image screen flickered. The image wasn't great, but the look of surprise,   
astonishment, and delight on Lieutenant Reginald Barclay's face was precious.  
"Captain Janeway?" Barclay stuttered. "You're all right!"  
"That we are. Lieutenant, is Admiral Paris there?" Janeway asked.  
"Yes...I mean no ma'am. He's at a meeting. Commander Craig is here, I think.   
Actually, I'm not supposed to be here, but I had an idea..."  
Janeway placed her hands on her hips. "Is it possible to speak with Paris?"  
"Ummm, yes ma'am. I'm sure I can interrupt him. What happened anyway?"  
"We had some problems with the slipstream," Janeway replied. "You didn't receive   
our data stream?"  
Barclay shook his head. "No, ma'am. At least not that I've heard of. I've sent a   
message to Admiral Paris..." He turned away from the viewscreen. "Sir, yes sir.   
I know I'm not...but...but...sir...Voyager...Yes, sir. Captain Janeway wishes to   
speak with you...Yes, sir. I'll patch her through." He turned to face the   
screen. "Captain, it's good to see you again. I'm patching you through to   
Admiral Paris."  
"Kathryn!" The Admiral said when he appeared. "Damn, it's good to see you. Where   
are you?"  
"We've sent a transmission with all that information." Harry smiled. While their   
location was only 3200 lightyears from home, it wasn't perfect. He noticed   
Admiral Paris frown. He was probably reading what made Voyager's present   
location less than ideal.  
"Captain, while we do have a treaty, with them, it would be best if you avoided   
any contact with the Romulans."  
"Yes, sir," Janeway answered. "We're about fifty light years from their   
boundaries, but have not seen signs of recent activity in the sector."  
Paris smiled. "I'll notify the admiralty of yet another miraculous   
reappearance."  
Janeway nodded. "Thank you. We're hoping to be able to communicate with our   
families."  
"I'll arrange it." Paris's smile grew. "Speaking of families..."  
"Tom is fine. So are B'Elanna and Miral."  
"Damn. Kathryn, you and those rabbits in a hat." The image flickered and   
vanished.  
"We lost the signal," Harry said. "I'm on it. We'll have to narrow the focus of   
the transmitter. "  
"Very good..."  
*^*^*^*^  
ACT TWO  
(Day Two, On Voyager)  
Janeway leaned back in her chair and looked at the two men sitting on the other   
side of her desk. "I think we're about finished here, in terms of the away teams   
and their composition."  
"I think so," Chakotay agreed. "All told, it shouldn't take more than five to   
seven days for both the mining operations and replenishing our food supplies."  
"A lot depends on the mining sites," the Captain pointed out. "Our scans   
indicate high-grade ore, but depending on how accessible the veins are, it may   
take longer than anticipated to obtain the amount we want."  
"We've got some leeway worked into the schedule," Chakotay said, consulting his   
PADD once more. "It shouldn't be a problem--it's not like the main deposits are   
buried hundreds of meters below the surface." He smiled. "Not like last time."   
That particular expedition, on an airless asteroid, had taken place four jumps   
earlier. Aside from coping with random rock-falls and cave-ins, Voyager's mining   
teams had wasted two days attempting to access the mother lode of kolander   
before giving up and settling for the smaller--and lesser quality--subsidiary   
veins.  
"But think of all the valuable experience we gained from that," Janeway said   
with an answering smile of her own. "Our crew would probably consider anything   
closer to the surface pretty boring by comparison." She rose to her feet. "Well,   
if there's nothing else..."  
"Pardon me, Captain," Tuvok interrupted. "But we have not yet discussed the   
security contingent for the various away teams."  
"Security?" asked Chakotay. He shook his head in bemusement. "Tuvok, you ran the   
system scans yourself. This sector is uninhabited. And the indigenous wildlife   
on the planet is harmless."  
"It would seem to fall under the category of a designated low-risk zone," the   
Captain agreed.  
Tuvok's lips tightened. "Nonetheless, I do not feel comfortable sending away   
teams without security accompaniment."  
"It's not like our people will be defenseless," Chakotay said reasonably. "Each   
member of every team will be carrying phasers." He attempted a lighter note.   
"And thanks to the recent weapons drills and recertification you insisted upon,   
you can be sure they all know how to use them."  
"That is not the point, Commander," Tuvok objected. "Starfleet regulations   
clearly indicate..."  
Janeway held up a hand. "Tuvok, I appreciate your concern, but I really don't   
feel that we are leaving ourselves vulnerable. By necessity, the foraging and   
mining teams have to be few in numbers--both for feasibility of shift rotation,   
as well as the very real concern of having adequate space for hauling the raw   
materials. The volume taken up in a shuttle by even one additional person is   
equivalent to another 150 kilograms of ore."  
"Or produce," Chakotay added.  
"Instead of depending on the shuttles for hauling materials, we could use the   
cargo transporters," Tuvok said.  
Janeway shook her head. "If we were confining ourselves to one specific   
planetoid or moon, yes. But our scans indicate that what we need is scattered   
among a variety of locations. No, the shuttles are the best answer." She came   
around to his seat and placed her hand gently on his arm. "However, if any of   
the officers in your department should *volunteer* to be included among the   
foraging or mining groups..."  
"Like Ayala," Chakotay said with a grin. "He's a big guy--I imagine he could   
carry plenty of sacks of ore, not to mention dig it in the first place."  
"Exactly," Janeway said briskly. Her voice carried a clear note of dismissal.  
"Aye, Captain," Tuvok said. He exited the Ready Room ahead of Chakotay, and   
could be seen heading straight for the turbolift.  
"Hey, Tuvok, wait a moment!" Chakotay called, and hurried after him. He caught   
up just as the 'lift doors were closing. Wordlessly, Tuvok held the door; once   
the first officer was inside, he released the control.  
"Deck 12," Chakotay said and then turned to the Vulcan. "Thanks."  
Tuvok did not answer.  
Chakotay sighed. "Look, Tuvok, about what just happened in the Captain's Ready   
Room--"  
Tuvok's gaze was focused on the opposite wall. "Our meeting is concluded,   
Commander. There is nothing further to say."  
"But you're not happy with the outcome," Chakotay pressed.  
Tuvok did look at him then, one brow raised quizzically. "My happiness, as it   
were, is not an issue here."  
"But you are displeased with the Captain's decision about the security   
personnel."  
"She made a decision based on the information at hand."  
Chakotay took a step closer to the other man. "A decision that you don't agree   
with."  
"She is the captain."  
At that familiar phrase--one he'd used countless times to himself in late-night   
justification--Chakotay made a snap decision. "Computer, hold 'lift."  
"May I ask why you did that, Commander?" Tuvok asked.  
"Because I think that you and I are overdue for a talk," Chakotay told him   
bluntly.  
Tuvok clasped his hands together loosely behind his back. "Leaving aside the   
issue of whether or not that is the case, a halted turbolift is hardly the   
appropriate venue."  
"Perhaps not, but here we are."  
A Human would have sighed. "Very well," Tuvok said, his tone carrying just a   
hint of guardedness. "What is it you wish to discuss?"  
Chakotay paused a moment to organize his thoughts. "Look, this is certainly not   
the first time the captain has consulted with both of us on an issue, prior to   
making a decision."  
"As any commanding officer, she takes input from her subordinates, relying on   
their expertise," Tuvok agreed.  
"Exactly. And your area of expertise is security."  
"Correct."  
"And therefore you feel the captain should always follow your advice regarding   
those matters," Chakotay said quietly.  
"That would seem the logical course of action."  
"But sometimes she overrules you, whether it's an instance like now of whether   
or not to include security officers on the away teams, or something more   
important, like trusting an alien species, or becoming involved in the local   
affairs of another culture."  
Tuvok shifted his stance slightly. "You are referring to the Caephidian affair."  
"That is the most recent example, yes, but it goes back even further. This   
wasn't the first time the captain took sides."  
"Sides, Commander?" There was a slight, but discernible stress on the first   
word.  
Chakotay flushed. "I was referring to forming alliances against a common enemy.   
The Nezu, the Mallon, the Devore--"  
"Of course," said Tuvok. Their eyes met. "But you did not mention the most   
prominent examples of alliances the captain has attempted to form over the   
course of our journey--such as the Kazon in our second year, and the Borg less   
than two years later."  
"I know that you were opposed to the idea of forming an alliance with some of   
the Kazon sects." Chakotay chose to ignore the Borg alliance, as that was a   
decision he had opposed and had led to a great deal of animosity and mistrust   
between himself and the captain. As opposed to what happened with the Kazon...  
Tuvok's gaze never wavered. "As you will recall, Commander, the captain   
reluctantly took your advice in that instance. The end result was a fiasco."  
Chakotay winced. "You certainly don't mince words, do you?"  
"It was unsuccessful," Tuvok said. "Is that phrasing more to your liking? Due to   
the deception of the Trabe, the ruling heads of the various Kazon sects were   
very nearly wiped out." He continued, his words unrelenting, inexorable.   
"Refusing to believe that Voyager was not a party to this planned massacre, the   
sect leaders left, swearing vengeance against the captain."  
"Those were circumstances beyond our control, Tuvok," Chakotay protested. "Our   
intentions were good."  
Tuvok's expression left no doubt of what value he consigned to that. "This was   
not the first time the captain was persuaded to make a decision that was, shall   
we say, less than wise."  
"What do you mean?" Chakotay said tightly. "Are you implying that I have misled   
her in the past?"  
"Perhaps not intentionally."  
Chakotay tried to keep his temper under control. "But you're saying I did so   
anyway."  
::Torres to Chakotay::  
The sudden interruption made Chakotay jump involuntarily. "What is it,   
B'Elanna?" he snapped.  
::According to my readings, you and Tuvok have been in a stalled turbolift   
between decks 7 and 8 for the last 10 minutes. Is there a problem?::  
"No, there's no problem," he said. "Chakotay out." He took a deep breath.   
"Computer, resume lift." He looked at the Vulcan once more. "Tuvok, we need to   
finish this."  
"Agreed." The 'lift came to a halt; the doors opened. "Where did you have in   
mind?"  
Chakotay passed his hand wearily over his face, considering just where indeed.   
The problem was finding an out of the way spot on the ship, where they could be   
safe from interruption. Personal quarters were out of the question, as were   
their respective offices. This needed to be done where neither would be at an   
unfair disadvantage, as well as outside the trappings of rank. He considered for   
a moment and then came to a decision. "Deck 15," he said. Tuvok nodded.  
As he'd known it would be, Deck 15, in the bowels of the ship, was practically   
deserted. Never one of the more populated areas, it had become especially lonely   
since Mortimer Harren had been killed in one of their battles with the Borg more   
than a year earlier. Chakotay had often come here, late at night, when he had   
trouble sleeping, or had a problem he needed to work out. He suspected the   
captain did so as well. It was strangely comforting standing here, the rough   
metallic flooring with an unfinished look to it compared to the rest of the   
ship, the throbbing and pulsing of the engines more clearly discernible than   
they were anywhere else.  
He led the way to a small adjunct chamber. The rumbling of the warp core was   
even louder here. Tuvok stopped near the doorway. 'Not going to let yourself get   
backed up against the wall, are you?' Chakotay thought in bitter amusement. He   
leaned against a console, and defiantly crossed his arms over his chest. "You   
were talking about my 'bad advice' to the captain. As first officer, it's my job   
to present her with alternative courses of action."  
"Correct. And not simply disagree with her planned courses of action."  
Chakotay's jaw tightened. "Meaning?"  
"There have been times when you have simply disagreed with her, objected to her   
proposals but offered nothing further. For example, when we encountered the Borg   
for the very first time. You disagreed with the captain's plan, yet had no   
alternative one to present yourself."  
"We could have turned around and waited out the war between the Borg and species   
8472," pointed out Chakotay, more calmly than he felt. After all this time, that   
incident still had the power to upset him. "There was no need to put our lives   
in danger."  
"That was not an alternative the captain was willing to accept."  
No, it wasn't. Kathryn strongly resisted anything that smacked of surrendering   
her dream to get them all home, no matter what the cost. Unwillingly, he thought   
of an even more painful instance when they had clashed. The words slipped out of   
their own volition. "What about the Equinox?"  
"You did stop her from making a dangerous and foolish mistake," Tuvok conceded.  
Chakotay leaned against the wall for support; he closed his eyes to shut out the   
nightmare images, of the look on Noah Lessing's face--and of Captain Janeway.   
When he was able, he turned back toward Tuvok. "You knuckled under to her   
yourself when you were temporarily elevated to first officer," he said. His eyes   
widening in realization, he added, "Is *that* what this is about? From the   
first, you've resented that she chose me instead of you."  
The impassive face didn't change. "I am a Vulcan. I do not exhibit jealousy."  
"But you feel it, don't you?" said Chakotay accusingly. "Even if you don't show   
it. You feel you should have been named first officer."  
"As the ranking member of Starfleet on board, yes, that would have been the   
logical choice."  
"But Janeway offered it to me instead," Chakotay said. He advanced toward Tuvok.   
"Do you know why?"  
"She informed me that it was in the best interest of blending the two crews."  
He stopped short, his face only inches from Tuvok's. "But *you* didn't think I   
was qualified."  
"Commander, I assure you that in recent years--"  
"I'm not talking about now, I'm talking about back then," Chakotay interrupted.   
"When this whole thing just began, after the Caretaker's Array was destroyed.   
She told you what she intended, but you didn't agree with her, did you?"  
"No," Tuvok said, almost reluctantly.  
"Why not?" Chakotay challenged.  
Once more, Tuvok met his eyes unswervingly. "I agreed that we needed to merge   
the two crews in order to increase our odds of survival. It would have been a   
waste of resources to place the Maquis in the brig for the next 70 years--both   
in terms of the skills your people brought with them, as well as the tremendous   
limitations it would place upon us as your jailers." He paused for a moment.   
"Placing terrorists in sensitive positions, such as engineering, was one thing,   
but a rebel commander in a position of authority, with access to key ship   
systems--you would have been in an ideal position to lead a mutiny."  
Chakotay began to laugh. "Yes, that's why you came up with your little training   
program--'Insurrection Alpha', wasn't it? Tell me something, Tuvok, were you   
disappointed you didn't get a chance to actually put your little countermeasures   
into play?"  
"It was a necessary precaution," Tuvok maintained. "There was no guarantee that   
you would not have tried to seize the ship."  
Chakotay shook his head. "Of course there was--I gave the captain my word, and   
swore to serve under her. But you didn't think I could be trusted!" He slammed   
his fist into the wall and then winced.  
Tuvok tentatively reached over to him. "Are you all right, Commander?"  
"I'm fine, damn it!" Chakotay spun away and cradled his injured hand.  
"I cannot base the course of my actions on a feeling. Your actions prior to that   
date had not been very encouraging. After all, it was your prominence as a   
Maquis leader which made Starfleet order your arrest in the first place."  
Chakotay slumped to the floor. "Pretty ironic to hear you talk about trust and   
betrayal, Tuvok--have you forgotten your little spy mission for Starfleet? When   
you infiltrated my cell?"  
"I assure you I have not forgotten," Tuvok said quietly.  
"You wormed your way into my trust, and all the while you were planning to   
betray me to the Federation!" Chakotay took a deep breath. "And you can stand   
there now and talk about trust!"  
"I was under orders; there was nothing personal in my planned 'betrayal',   
Commander." Tuvok hesitated, as if expecting a comment in return. When nothing   
was forthcoming, he continued, "During the course of my two months service as a   
member of your cell, you cannot say that I did not follow your orders without   
question, nor did I compromise any of your missions in any way."  
Chakotay waved his words away. "You were just waiting for the opportunity to   
hand us over to the authorities!"  
"But I did not do so."  
"Lack of opportunity," Chakotay said dismissively. "If we hadn't ended up in the   
Delta Quadrant--"  
"And what of Captain Janeway?" asked Tuvok suddenly. "She would have arrested   
you if circumstances had been otherwise. If the Caretaker had not died, if the   
Kazon had not attacked, we would have returned to the Alpha Quadrant. Do you   
think that the captain would not have carried out her orders and turned you over   
to the Federation authorities?"  
"That's not the same thing--" Chakotay began, and then stopped short.  
"You see the point," said Tuvok.  
Chakotay was quiet for a long while, listening to the throbbing of the engines.   
For the first time, it occurred to him to wonder why he was getting so worked up   
over the past. "That was a very long time ago," he said finally. "A lot has   
changed since then."  
"Agreed," Tuvok said, coming to sit next to him. "None of us are quite the same   
people we were eight years ago. Therefore, it is illogical to dwell on those   
earlier events. Rather we should concentrate our efforts on the here and now,   
and the task at hand."  
Chakotay's lips twisted in a humorless smile. "You could be me, saying   
that...You're right, of course. The task at hand--which is getting home."  
Tuvok looked at him carefully. "Am I correct in surmising that you view our   
imminent return home with some degree of misgivings, Commander?"  
"You could put it that way, yes. We have no way of knowing what will happen." He   
fell silent, thinking once more of the Maquis.  
"We also are not assured of a negative outcome."  
"No, I suppose not," Chakotay conceded. "I know that the captain will do   
everything in her power..." His voice trailed away as Tuvok stood once more.  
"As will I, Commander." He held out his hand. Chakotay took it and allowed Tuvok   
to pull him to his feet. The Vulcan's grip was firm and oddly comforting. "As   
will I."  
*^*^*^*^  
(Day Two - On The Third Planet)  
The foliage was dense, and Sam Wildman pushed several leafy fronds away from her   
face as she followed her crewmates. She knew that rain forests like this one   
contained far more edible fruits, berries, nuts and other foodstuffs than any   
temperate forest did, but she didn't have to like walking through the warm,   
humid jungle. She was perspiring despite the thermal material of her uniform,   
and she could feel the loosened strands of her hair clinging damply against her   
cheeks. She brushed ineffectively at her hair as a small furry animal scurried   
quickly across her path. No doubt her daughter would be intrigued by this   
particular mission. Naomi definitely had an adventurous spirit.  
Sam suddenly missed her daughter's presence. They rarely got to spend any duty   
hours together on Voyager, and Naomi had rebuffed her mother's suggestion that   
she join Neelix's foraging party. Naomi had preferred to join Tom's survey team   
on the Delta Flyer, partly because Icheb would be there, but also because Joe   
Carey had promised she could act as the team's assistant engineer.  
Sam sighed. Naomi was getting more excited the closer Voyager got to Earth, not   
just because she wanted to see her father, but because she was looking forward   
to continuing her coursework at Starfleet Academy. Her experience helping   
brainstorm solutions to the slipstream problem that had landed Voyager out of   
time had convinced Naomi that engineering was her career path. Sam couldn't help   
but be proud of her daughter, even while she wondered how it could have gone by   
so fast. In only a blink her daughter had grown up--  
"Hey, I think I got something!"  
Sam pushed past some hanging vines and joined Tal Celes, who was pointing her   
scanner at some low bushes with bright yellow berries growing on them. Gerron   
knelt beside her and pulled a handful of the berries free, sniffing them   
cautiously.  
Sam ran her bio-scanner over the fruit. She was representing the medical   
department, since the doctor was always on the lookout for plants with potential   
drug applications--she'd already found several promising samples--but she also   
had taken on the duty of verifying the safety of potential edibles, as well as   
their compatibility with humanoid digestive systems.  
"Non-toxic and easily digested," Sam said as she looked at the scanner readout.   
"Fructose-based, high in vitamin C and potassium, and strongly acidic." Which   
meant they were probably very sour.  
Assured of its safety, Neelix plucked one of the berries from Gerron's open palm   
and plopped it into his mouth. "Umm..."--he swallowed--"just a bit tart."  
Sam caught Michael Ayala's smirk as he and Marla Gilmore exchanged glances.   
Everyone on Voyager knew Neelix's Talaxian sense of taste rarely harmonized with   
the tastes of the rest of the crew. Gerron offered Sam the berries, while   
managing to keep his face expressionless, not an easy task for the emotive   
Bajoran.  
It was her turn to be the taster, and Sam bowed to the inevitable as she quickly   
put one of the berries in her mouth. She couldn't help a grimace as she chewed.   
Her eyes closed involuntarily for a second and she swallowed quickly. It tasted   
like grapefruit, except more bitter. "These are pretty sour to our taste buds,   
Neelix."  
Neelix nodded amiably. Disparity between his taste buds and those of the crew   
was a frequent occurrence. He felt sorry that they had such a limited sense of   
taste, but he'd learned to defer to his customers' preferences. That was his   
job, and very soon now he might be dealing with a much larger and more varied   
clientele. "I can always add sweetener," he suggested. "We haven't found   
anything else with this level of vitamin C yet."  
"You're right," Sam agreed. "We'd better put these on the list. Gerron?"  
Gerron was in charge of updating the location list for future transport   
activity. He brushed a large blue insect off the screen of his data PADD, and   
began entering coordinates. Tal shuddered as the many-legged creature landed on   
the mossy ground and scurried away. The insect repellent they'd all lathered on   
kept them from getting any unwanted bites, but she still wasn't comfortable with   
so many insects. Every leaf or stick she looked at seemed to have something   
moving on it. She'd brushed away several that had crawled up her boots and onto   
her clothes.  
"Where's Telfer?"  
Ayala's question got everyone's attention. He wasn't along as an official   
security escort, since the away missions had all been designated as   
non-hazardous, but he couldn't help his natural instinct. He was aware there had   
been some disagreement about that non-hazardous designation, and Commander Tuvok   
had subsequently put out an internal department request for volunteers on every   
away team. The foraging team had seemed an interesting enough assignment. The   
pre-landing surveys had verified that the larger carnivorous animals on the   
planet were confined to the temperate areas. There were a number of snakes in   
the rain forest, some venomous, but so far they'd seen few of them. Sam Wildman   
had a medical kit with her in case of any bites or injuries, though any serious   
injury could be immediately transported to Sickbay.  
The only real difficulty so far was the annoying insect population, and Ayala   
shooed a two-centimeter long iridescent green flying one away from his face,   
wishing he had an economy size insecticide atomizer on him, even though it was   
against regulations to harm the local fauna. And right now there was a   
potentially missing person...  
"Billy was just here a minute ago," Tal said, as everyone looked at the   
surrounding forest. He couldn't be too far away. Ayala tapped his commbadge.   
"Ayala to Telfer."  
::Telfer here.::  
The reply was immediate, and everyone breathed a quick sigh of relief as Ayala   
said, "You're supposed to keep in sight of someone else at all times."  
::Sorry. I didn't noticed I'd wandered so far.::  
Ayala consulted the directional finder on his PADD. "I have your location,   
Telfer. You're just a few dozen meters from our position. Stay where you are and   
we'll catch up."  
::Will do. Ahh...::  
"What?" Ayala demanded at Telfer's sharp intake of breath.  
::Nothing. I just stepped in some mud. Yuck, it's all over my shoes. Geez, it's   
really sticky...I can't...::  
There was a momentary pause, and they heard Telfer grunting. "Billy?" Tal asked   
with alarm.  
::I'm stuck! I can't get out of it!:: Billy's voice became shrill with panic.   
::I think it's quicksand!!::  
"Calm down, Telfer," Ayala said as he began to jog. The rest of the team   
followed at the same pace. They could hear Billy grunting louder.  
::It's sucking me in!::  
"Stop moving!" Ayala shouted. "If it is quicksand, struggling against it is what   
makes you sink. Just stay still!"  
It took a less than a minute to reach Billy's location. Sam kept her medical   
scanner focused on his biosignal. Though his pulse and heartbeat were rapid, and   
his breathing labored, nothing in her readings indicated a critical situation.   
Ayala pointed his scanner forward and slapped his commbadge as he stopped   
abruptly, those behind him nearly running into each other. In front of them   
Billy Telfer was thigh-deep in a large irregular circle of brown ooze.  
"Hurry!" Billy shouted. "Get me out of here!"  
"Voyager, prepare to lock onto Crewman Telfer's signal..." Ayala paused, staring   
at the scanner in his hand. "Belay that, Voyager." He closed the link and raised   
his eyes to the panic-stricken Telfer.  
"What are you waiting for?" Billy cried. "I'm sinking! In a minute there won't   
be anything left of me!"  
Ayala rolled his eyes. "Telfer, you're not sinking, at least not anymore. The   
total depth of the mud you're stuck in is point eight two meters. Beneath that   
is a bed of limestone."  
"Limestone?" Billy repeated weakly.  
"Yeah. Given the height of the mud in relation to your legs, I'd say you're   
standing right on it."  
Billy shifted cautiously, then gave Ayala a sheepish look. Ayala heard a guffaw   
behind him--Gerron--and a softer snicker. He saw Marla Gilmore press a hand to   
her mouth.  
"Here, Billy," Neelix said cheerfully. He waved a long stick over the mudhole in   
Billy's direction. "Grab on and we'll pull you out."  
"Quicksand, Telfer?" Gerron asked derisively. "It's just a little mud puddle."  
Billy grabbed the stick. "This is a lot of mud! And it was sucking me in." As   
Ayala and Neelix pulled him out, there was a long slurping sound, as if to   
punctuate his words.  
Tal giggled and Billy glared at her. "Sorry, Billy," she said quickly. "You must   
have been remembering that movie we watched a few weeks ago in Tom's movie   
theater program." It was the first thing she'd thought of when Billy had said he   
was sinking in quicksand. For a few moments her heart had beat wildly, recalling   
the grisly scene, though she knew Voyager's transporter could pull Billy out in   
a second.  
"You mean 'King Solomon's Mines'?" Neelix asked as Billy reached solid ground,   
with Marla and Ayala's added effort. "A rousing tale, and that was quite an   
unpleasant death."  
"Exactly," Billy grumbled.  
"That was a movie, Telfer," Gerron said with a smirk. "It wasn't real."  
"The quicksand pits of Cor Caroli Four are real enough," Marla pointed out.  
"This isn't Cor Caroli Four," Ayala replied. "The geology department cleared   
this area for foraging with a level four safety rating." Though even the most   
extensive surveys could miss something, it rarely happened. He should have   
remembered Telfer's tendency for over-dramatization, especially when it came to   
his own health and welfare.  
Neelix clapped Billy's shoulder. "Ready to go on?"  
"Or do you want me to beam you back to the ship?" Ayala asked. He was willing to   
do so, though the challenge in his voice was intentional.  
Telfer looked down at his muddied clothing. He supposed his clothes would dry,   
though maybe not very quickly in this humidity. It was tempting to go back to   
Voyager so he could change. Not to mention it would be a lot cooler, and there   
wouldn't be any insects crawling on him or buzzing around his face. He squared   
his shoulders and shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's go on."  
Ayala nodded with approval.  
As they moved on again, Billy drifted toward the back of the group to join Tal   
Celes. "I should have volunteered for another mission," he said morosely.  
"At least we won't have to do this many more times," Tal said. "We're going to   
be home in a couple more jumps."  
Sam, walking just ahead, noticed Marla Gilmore flinch slightly at those words.   
She knew Marla and the rest of the former Equinox crewmembers were in the most   
precarious position of anyone on Voyager. Though she didn't know Marla that   
well, they'd gotten better acquainted recently, since they were both close to   
Harry, in different ways.  
"Yeah," Billy agreed. His voice was enthusiastic. "I can't wait to see my   
family."  
"All twelve brothers and sisters," Tal teased.  
"And their kids," Billy added. "Twenty-six at last count."  
"You have twelve brothers and sisters?" Ayala asked from where he'd taken up the   
rear.  
"I was raised on an agricultural colony--New Tuscany. We tend to have large   
families there."  
New Tuscany one was of Earth's oldest and largest colonies, though Ayala hadn't   
known that Billy Telfer hailed from there. It wasn't unusual for colonies,   
especially agricultural ones, to encourage large families, since there was   
usually plenty of room to grow. The thought of his own colony planet, now   
completely decimated, brought only a shadow of the impotent fury he'd once been   
barely able to control. Over the years he'd come to accept the unjust fate of   
his homeworld, not without resentment, or determination to never let it happen   
again--but with the knowledge that home was more than a place, and that his   
liberated son was far more important than the land where he'd been raised. So   
was the rest of his missing family, and he prayed often that they'd found a way   
to survive--  
"We've got more of the melonfruit over here," Neelix called from several meters   
ahead. Beyond the nearest trees and vines, Ayala could see Gerron beside Neelix,   
already recording the coordinates.  
"At least the melonfruit doesn't taste too horrible," Tal said.  
"It doesn't taste like anything," Ayala corrected wryly.  
Marla shrugged. "Neither does honey melon or watermelon."  
"There's a bioengineered strain of watermelon on New Tuscany that tastes so good   
you could eat it forever. If you harvest it when it's just ripe, it has this   
crisp, sweet crunch when you bite into it. It's one of the first things I want   
to eat when I get home. I can taste it now..."  
Marla moved ahead, joining Neelix and Gerron. She didn't want to hear Billy talk   
about how happy he would be once they got home. It was all everyone was talking   
about now. For a long time she'd tried to pretend enthusiasm, but when this last   
jump had brought them so close again, her gut had tightened in anxiety. She was   
certain this time there wouldn't be any "burps" in the slipstream to delay the   
inevitable.  
"There is nothing on Earth's colonies or anywhere comparable to Tasa melons,"   
Tal said as the rest of the group caught up. "The Cardassians destroyed most of   
the fields in the western provinces of Bajor, but they've almost all have been   
replanted. My uncle Nevin has several melon fields. Tasa melons are the best,   
aren't they, Gerron?"  
Gerron shrugged. "They're good. Who knows when I'll taste one though."  
"It'll be soon enough," Tal said, dismissing his fatalism. She was used to it   
from him and Tabor. "It's not like you're going to prison."  
Gerron frowned. "How do you know?"  
"Because you've all been instrumental in our survival. So have the Equinox   
crew." She threw a quick smile at Marla. "Starfleet knows that, as well all the   
discoveries we've made and services we've performed over the past eight years.   
We're one crew now and they're not going to forget it."  
Ayala didn't think Starfleet would forget it either. Problem was, some of those   
stuffy admirals also wouldn't forget anything that had happened before. He also   
knew Chakotay wasn't as sanguine as he'd pretended when he'd talked to the   
Maquis crew a few days ago. Still, he couldn't imagine Starfleet doing any more   
than throwing them out of the service. Being discharged--honorably or   
not--didn't matter much to him any more. When he left Starfleet to join the   
Maquis, he had been bitter and disillusioned. Because of Voyager the bitterness   
had faded. He'd learned to respect many of the people in Starfleet again, and to   
see them as individuals rather than representatives of an evil authority. He'd   
even come to realize that Starfleet wasn't evil, just imperfect and as   
susceptible to corruption and shortsightedness as any other organization. But he   
doubted he'd stick around, even if by some amazing chance they still wanted him.   
Nothing was going to separate him from his son again.  
"You really are an optimist, Tal," Gerron said, his tone patronizing.  
"And you're a pessimist, Gerron," Ayala replied, not about to let any of that   
long buried tension between the Starfleet and Maquis officers be resurrected.   
They were all long past that.  
"I may be," Gerron said. "But at least I'll be prepared for the worst. Whereas   
Tal thinks Angelo and the rest of the Equinox crew are going to get off scott   
free just because she wants it."  
"Gerron!" Sam's voice was sharp. As the only mother on board for so many years,   
she'd gained a certain status, and her admonishment carried more weight than it   
otherwise might.  
Gerron flushed, and looked apologetically at Marla. "I didn't mean you should be   
punished, just that Starfleet might decide--"  
"It's fine," Marla said shortly, wishing there was a way she could avoid this   
subject that somehow came up in every conversation now.  
"For the record, I do think Starfleet will take *everyone's* actions on Voyager   
into account," Tal said. She didn't add that she and Angelo had made plans based   
on that assumption. She hadn't signed up for this eight year trip--none of them   
had--and though she didn't entirely regret it, she'd had enough of Starfleet.   
She wanted to see her family on Bajor again, settle down, and eventually raise a   
family. Angelo had no real family on Earth other than some distant cousins, but   
Tal knew her family would welcome him into the fold. Then they finally would   
have a chance to live a normal life.  
"I agree, and everyone is entitled to their own opinion." Tal sent Billy a   
grateful look, and Gerron shrugged, saying no more.  
"Yes, indeed," Neelix agreed. "I know we're all a little anxious about getting   
to Earth." Truth be told, he was just excited. He'd forever hold Talaxia and   
Rynax dear in his heart, but that was in the past, and there was no one left   
from that past. Now he was looking to the future, and to a new adventure. "But   
we're not there yet, so I think we should focus on the task at hand."  
"You're right, Neelix," Sam said. "Why don't we move on."  
Neelix took the lead, and Sam fell in beside Marla. She noticed Marla's   
shoulders were still stiff, and she felt sympathy for the other woman. The   
uncertainty had to be difficult, and it was impossible not to think about it   
now. Getting home was on everyone's mind.  
It was certainly never out of her mind. She'd missed Greskendrtregk more since   
they'd been able to communicate regularly than she had since the beginning. For   
a long time she'd believed she'd never see him again. She'd raised their child   
alone, a child they'd once expected to be one of many. Gres had suggested half a   
dozen children, apparently a favorable number for Ktarians, though he'd   
laughingly agreed to four when she'd questioned who had to go through the real   
work.  
That had become a moot point once Voyager became stranded in the Delta quadrant.   
For quite a while she'd been content to focus on Naomi, assuming she'd be far   
too old to have more children when and if they ever got home. But recently she'd   
started yearning for another baby.  
Maybe it was because of the time she'd spent around Miral, and watching B'Elanna   
with her baby daughter. It had reminded her how it had felt to hold a baby, to   
hold Naomi when she was a baby--to nurture a new life you'd created and watch it   
grow into a person. She wanted that again, with Gres.  
"It's a path."  
Sam's attention returned to the present, where Neelix and Ayala were studying   
the forest floor a few meters ahead.  
"Probably an animal trail," Ayala said.  
Sam could barely make out the faint impressions in the ground cover as Neelix   
said, "It's overgrown, so it probably hasn't been used in a while."  
"Maybe we should follow it," Marla suggested. "If animals used it, it probably   
led to water, or food."  
They moved in that direction, scanners activated, and only a couple of moments   
later Billy shouted, "Hey! I found something weird."  
"Not another quicksand pit, I hope," Ayala said dryly.  
They entered a clearing of sorts where Billy was scanning an odd patch of tall   
weeds. There were still bushes and trees, but they weren't as dense as most of   
the surrounding forest.  
"It's some sort of grain," Billy said.  
"Wild grain," Neelix said, excitement in his voice. He ran his own scanner over   
the small outcropping. "A strain of wheat or something genetically similar."   
Then his brow furrowed. "That's odd..."  
"What?" Ayala asked.  
Sam raised her eyes from her own scanner. "This grain shows definite signs of   
domestication."  
Everyone looked bemusedly at each other. The initial scans had found no evidence   
of civilization here, past or present.  
"Someone was here?" Gerron asked.  
"If they were, they aren't here now," Ayala said.  
"I think there's another patch over there," Marla said, pointing. She moved in   
that direction as Ayala asked, "Are you positive about the domestication, Sam?"  
"Yes." She looked at Ayala. "Not only that, there are also some signs of genetic   
engineering."  
"Genetic--"  
Ayala's dumbfounded response was cut off by a short cry. He turned just in time   
to see Marla sprawl on the ground a few meters away. He rushed over to help her,   
though Sam beat him there.  
"What happened?" Sam asked as she and Ayala helped Marla to her feet.  
Marla winced as stood. "I tripped over a rock." She'd landed hard on her hands   
and knees, and her uniform pants were torn over one bloodied knee. Both her   
palms were scraped. She felt a little embarrassed that she hadn't watched where   
she was going.  
Sam was running a medical scanner over her. "Looks like just a contusion and   
minor lacerations." She pulled a dermal regenerator from her medical kit.  
"Is this what you tripped over, Marla?" Neelix asked.  
Marla glanced at the jagged rock Neelix was scanning. She nodded as Billy joined   
Neelix.  
"That's not a rock," Billy said.  
"Definitely not," Neelix agreed as he scanned the uneven stone that was   
discolored in some places.  
"It's not--" Gerron paused. "Are you saying it was manufactured?"  
"It's made of indigenous stone, but not from this area of the planet," Telfer   
said, reading his scanner display. "It was obviously moved here."  
"It looks like it was some sort of column once, or the base of one," Neelix   
added as Ayala, Sam and Marla joined them.  
"You mean there was an ancient civilization here?" Tal asked.  
"Not so ancient," Billy said. "The stone was reinforced with duraplast."  
"Can you tell how old it is?" Ayala asked. He was guessing not more than a few   
hundred years, unless this sector had discovered how to make duraplast before   
anyone in the adjoining sectors.  
"No more than a hundred and fifty years old," Neelix said.  
Tal scraped the ground a meter away with the point of her boot. "I think there   
might be more here."  
Gerron joined her, activating his scanner.  
"So there was some sort of settlement here," Sam guessed. "Or a colony site."  
"Odd place to build it," Marla commented.  
Ayala agreed. Though that explained the genetically enhanced grain, the   
temperate latitudes of the planet contained several wide plains with excellent   
soil for agriculture, and better weather. The only advantage of building a   
settlement here would be the camouflage factor.  
"These discolorations..."--Billy pointed to several darker areas on the surface   
of the gray stone--"They're scorch marks, made by phased laser fire."  
"Which means phasers, blasters, and several other types of weapons could have   
caused the damage," Ayala said. The question was, had whoever had built this   
destroyed their own settlement for whatever reason, or had invaders come along   
and destroyed it for them?  
"This is the same stone," Gerron said from his position as Tal scraped away more   
soil with her boot, brushing aside several red beetle-like insects as she did.   
"I adjusted my scanner and it looks like it stretches quite a way."  
"You've probably found the foundation for a building," Sam said, looking over   
Gerron's shoulder. "A very big building by the looks of it."  
"What do you suppose it was used for?" Gerron asked.  
"Food storage," was Neelix's not surprising guess.  
"There must be more buildings," Tal said. "Maybe we should spread out and see   
what else we can find."  
"This is a foraging mission," Ayala reminded her.  
"And I don't think any of us are trained in archeological excavation," Billy   
added, though he'd taken an archeology course at the Academy. It had been enough   
to learn how easy it was to destroy artifacts with careless methods.  
Tal sighed. "But this is really interesting."  
"It is fascinating," Neelix agreed, taking no offense at Tal's implication. "I'm   
sorry now that I've never been part of an archaeological expedition. But we do   
have our own job to do. We can record the location and what we've found, and   
report it on our return to Voyager. Then it will be up to the captain to send a   
team down to investigate if she chooses."  
Ayala was sure Chakotay would jump at the chance, but he was glad they were   
leaving. He found ruins as interesting as the next person, but these particular   
ruins... For some reason they gave him a bad feeling. Maybe it was his security   
background. Seeing the evidence of destruction told him that whatever the   
purpose of the settlement, it had come to a bad end. He wasn't sure he wanted to   
know any more. Not when they were so close to home.  
As Gerron finished recording the coordinates, Ayala took the rear and the   
foraging team moved on, leaving the ruins behind.  
*^*^*^*^  
(Day Two - On Voyager)  
Janeway was so deeply engrossed in the data on the PADD she was reading, that   
she barely looked up as she exited the turbo-lift on deck six. She turned left   
and rounded the corner, still scrolling through the notes that she had made,   
arranging and prioritizing her to-do list. A slight movement at the far end of   
the corridor caught her attention, and she paused to glance up, almost in spite   
of herself. Two figures were approaching, and Janeway couldn't help but smile as   
she watched them. B'Elanna was walking slowly up the long hallway, and Miral,   
proudly determined, marched just ahead of her as quickly as her short sturdy   
legs would allow. She was slightly hampered by something she was dragging, but   
she was managing all the same, pointedly ignoring her mother's proffered hand.  
Janeway hunkered down into a crouch as Miral caught sight of her.  
"Cappa," the child called out happily, and the captain was unaccountably   
touched. She held out her arms as Miral, still clutching her toy, chugged   
towards her.  
"What a clever girl." Janeway greeted Miral as she finally arrived and leaned   
comfortably into the captain's welcoming embrace. Janeway stood up, still   
holding the child in her arms.  
"Who have we here?" Janeway asked, indicating Miral's stuffed companion.  
"Targ." Was the immediate answer.  
"Of course," Janeway replied. "Targ."  
"Captain, be careful." B'Elanna warned. "She's just eaten lunch and I think she   
might still be a bit..."  
"Got it." Janeway replied and deftly turned Miral around just as a piece of   
unidentified food tumbled out of the child's coverall.  
Janeway and Torres both smiled and Miral, unconcerned, reached for the pips on   
the captain's collar.  
"Pitty" was Miral's comment, and Janeway tickled her under her chin.  
"Pretty indeed," she replied. "But you're going to have to earn your own, my   
sweet."  
Janeway handed Miral back to her mother. The child immediately began to struggle   
and B'Elanna set her down on the ground.  
"She certainly knows what she wants," B'Elanna sighed. "And she has no problem   
with communication."  
"So I see," Janeway grinned. "I wonder who she takes after..."  
"I wouldn't know." B'Elanna's response was good humoured. She'd heard the same   
thing many times -- from Tom, Harry and Chakotay. Even the Doctor had said as   
much.  
"Actually B'Elanna, I was just coming to find you." Janeway said. "The latest   
communication from the Pathfinder group contained a request for the most current   
slipstream modifications. They're worried that their calculations don't   
correlate with ours. There's a point four percent fluctuation factor that they   
can't quite account for and I told them that as far as I am concerned your   
numbers are the ones we'll use."  
"I've gone over them so many times I can recite them in my sleep." B'Elanna   
replied. "I've got about twenty minutes before my shift starts, Captain," she   
continued. "I'm just going to drop Miral off with Sara Hickman. They swim   
together twice a week. Did you know that Sara taught infant aquatics for five   
years at the Academy day care center?"  
"I didn't." Janeway replied, amazed that there were still so many things to   
learn about her crew even after eight years.  
They both turned back to Miral, who had plunked herself down on the floor at   
their feet and was busily going through her mother's bag. She had pulled out   
several diapers, a container of crackers and her swimsuit, which she was   
examining with great concentration.  
"Mimming?" She asked.  
"Yes swimming," B'Elanna replied. "And maybe the captain would like to come and   
watch?"  
Janeway quickly glanced down at the PADD that protruded rather accusingly from   
the detachable pocket at the side of her uniform. Her to-do list was ever   
growing.  
"I would indeed," she agreed.  
B'Elanna grinned. "Let's go, sweeting." She bent down, quickly repacked the bag   
and hoisted the now uncomplaining child, who was once again clutching her targ,   
onto her hip.  
"That fluctuation is easily accounted for, Captain, but I'll check one more time   
when I get to Engineering, " she continued as they headed towards the holodeck.   
"I'll review my calculations for them and you can attach it to the next data   
stream."  
"Thank you. They've also asked for a list of the modifications we've made to   
Voyager over the years. I've made a start, but I know you're definitely the   
expert in that department."  
"I've kept a detailed list from the beginning, Captain." B'Elanna replied. "It   
was a habit I got into when I was..." She hesitated for a moment and then   
continued. "When I was in the Maquis. We had to jury-rig those ships so often   
that if I hadn't kept notes of everything I'd changed, I'd have had absolutely   
no idea of what went where and what I'd done the week before."  
"Well done, Lieutenant." Janeway nodded her approval.  
"I can have a comprehensive report ready for you within a week."  
"That will be fine. I believe Starfleet is going to be very interested in some   
of your innovations, B'Elanna. In my opinion Voyager is a better ship now than   
she was when she left Utopia Planetia."  
B'Elanna grinned at the Captain and nodded. "I think she is too," she replied.   
"Some of that Borg technology is going to...." She hesitated for a moment, took   
a deep breath and continued quickly, before she could change her mind. "Captain   
I wanted to talk to you too..."  
Miral, who had been quietly resting in her mother's arms throughout their   
discussion, began to bounce as she spotted Ensign Hickman who was standing by   
the holodeck awaiting her student.  
"Captain, Lieutenant." Hickman greeted them. "I'll take her." She offered,   
referring to the squirming baby.  
"You don't mind?" B'Elanna asked and when Hickman nodded she handed Miral over,   
bag, targ and all.  
"I'll take her in and change her, Lieutenant. We should be ready to go in a few   
minutes, if you and the Captain want to..."  
"Yes, thanks," B'Elanna replied gratefully. She and Janeway watched as Hickman   
and Miral disappeared together into the holodeck, her daughter not even glancing   
back at her mother once.  
"B'Elanna, she's wonderful."  
"I know. I can't imagine life without her." B'Elanna paused for a moment and   
took another breath. "I can't imagine life without her," she repeated, "And I   
can't imagine life after Voyager and... I don't know that I want to."  
Janeway waited, saying nothing.  
"I... that didn't sound right," B'Elanna said. "It's not that I don't want to   
get home, I do. And I know that Tom does too. He's made peace with himself and   
he's ready to make peace with his family -- I guess he already has, really.   
But," she continued, choosing her words more carefully this time, "Everyone I   
love, everything of any value to me is here on Voyager. For the first time in my   
life I'm truly happy. And I'm afraid that will change when we get home."  
Janeway nodded, knowing there was more.  
"And then of course there's the whole issue of the Maquis and what's going to   
happen to us. No one's really talked about it, but believe me I know everyone's   
thinking about it. A lot."  
"B'Elanna." Janeway touched her lieutenant gently on the arm. "I understand your   
concerns, believe me. You aren't the first of my crew to express them." She   
thought of Chakotay's recent unease.  
"Captain," B'Elanna interrupted her. "Don't you ever feel that way? You and   
Chakotay, you're happy now that..."  
She stopped suddenly and bit her lip, realizing she'd probably gone too far. But   
Janeway, understanding B'Elanna's distress, chose not to react.  
"B'Elanna, when the Caretaker stranded us out here I made a vow -- to get this   
crew home. It's been a long and eventful journey." Janeway paused and B'Elanna   
nodded slowly in agreement. "And now, thanks to all of you it looks like I'm   
going to be able to fulfill that vow far sooner than I had dared to hope."  
Once again Janeway reached out to place a comforting hand on B'Elanna's   
shoulder. "I made another promise, B'Elanna. I promised that I would look out   
for and protect this crew to the best of my ability, or die trying. I meant it   
then, and I mean it now. And that vow applies to the Alpha Quadrant as well as   
the Delta Quadrant."  
"We've all found different things out here," she continued musingly "and some of   
us have found a peace that we would never have imagined. But it's time to go   
home, B'Elanna, because that's where we belong."  
"Thank you Captain."  
"Now," Janeway said as she turned towards the holodeck. "Let's go watch Miral   
conquer the Olympic swimming pool."  
*^*^*^*  
(Night of Day Two, On Voyager)  
By early in the ship's evening, Kathryn Janeway had to struggle to hold back a   
sigh as she looked at her desk. The normally immaculate workspace now held three   
stacks of PADDS, each one waiting for her attention. The shortest of the three   
held the priority matters, status reports on the most vital systems and reports   
to be sent to Headquarters at the first opportunity. Although it looked   
manageable now, she expected it to grow considerably once they re-established   
communications with Earth and the Admiralty had a chance to give her a new list   
of "must-do" tasks. The largest stack held the second priority issues, reports   
on systems not vital to survival or restoring the slip(-)stream but nonetheless   
important to their long-term security, and the third stack held the low priority   
matters, which she privately classified as "nice to get done if we have the   
time." They were too close to home to focus on anything other than the   
necessities of the slip(-)stream drive.  
All in all, the three stacks represented about four days of work if she did   
nothing else and slept only five hours a night. "I bet James T. Kirk didn't have   
to cope with this much paperwork," she muttered.  
The doorchime sounded, and she leaned back. "Come."  
Chakotay came into the ready room. "I was wondering if you have looked at the   
report from Paris and Carey yet?"  
"Yes, I have." Her eyes flicked to the third pile, the "nice if we can get to   
it" pile. "It's an interesting discovery."  
His eyes lit. "It really is, especially combined with the ruins we found on the   
planet. There are so many questions -- what is causing those readings on the   
moon? Was it something done by the people of the planet? And what happened to   
those people - why did they abandon a verdant world like this? Was it the same   
people at both sites?"  
"Both sites?" she repeated  
"It's in the updated geology report. Once we knew what to look for, the scanners   
turned up evidence of a second settlement on the other side of the continent.   
This one looks even older and it's a little smaller. An outpost, perhaps."  
He was speaking quickly, she realized, and with more passion than she had heard   
from him about almost anything in a very long time. His eyes were shining, and   
he seemed to be so full of energy that he had trouble standing still. "You're   
really excited about this, aren't you?" she asked quietly.  
"Aren't you?" Grabbing a nearby chair, he pulled it close to her desk and sat   
down. "Think about it -- the ruins on the planet could tell us whether this was   
home to a species we know or whether it's one we have never encountered before.   
The readings on the moon could be connected to the planet or could mean   
something else altogether. It's a puzzle, Kathryn, just waiting for us to put   
the pieces together."  
"I don't think I've ever seen you so enthused before." His excitement was   
contagious and she felt her spirits lifting.  
"It's been a long time since we came across anything like this," he said,   
smiling widely. "Other than the subspace bubble that held the Ares IV, we've   
been too far away to find anything that could relate to our own history."  
"And you would like to explore these sites further?"  
"Of course. Paris and Carey have already volunteered to go back to the moon for   
a closer look. They'll take our cadets with them. For the planet, I need two   
teams of five per shift. If we work all three shifts, we should be able to make   
substantial progress by the time we're ready to leave."  
She looked at the three stacks on her desk. The hard realities they represented   
deflated her momentary excitement. "We've got a lot to do on the ship," she said   
slowly. "I'm not sure we can spare fifteen people a day."  
"I know. I've got that worked out. I've already got a list of interested   
volunteers. I can schedule them at times that don't interfere with their main   
duties." For the first time, he seemed to realize that she wasn't sharing his   
enthusiasm. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing. I'm just not certain that this is a priority for us."  
He leaned back, looking dumbfounded. "Since when is exploration not a priority   
for this ship?"  
Since we learned that we can't count on help from anyone for our survival, she   
thought. Since we found out the slipstream drains our resources to critical   
levels and leaves us vulnerable. Since we found out that we're only a jump or   
two away from home.  
And then it hit her. She had let herself get so focused on getting home quickly   
that she had forgotten the principle mission of every Starfleet vessel: to seek   
out strange new worlds. Chakotay was right -- this was a chance to learn   
something about a new civilization, or at least, something new about an old   
civilization. Getting home was important, yes, but the way they got there was   
even more important and she wanted to get home with her Starfleet imperatives   
intact.  
She relaxed back into her chair. "You're right. Exploration is the reason we're   
out here in the first place. All right, Commander, you've got exactly four days.   
Make sure no one on your teams is needed for a critical repair. And try not to   
drain ship's resources before they're replenished."  
Grinning broadly, he rose. "Thank you. I'll go get things organized."  
"I'm guessing you'll be camping out for a few days?"  
He nodded. "You're invited, if you'd like to join me when you're free." His   
dimples deepened. "My sleeping bag is big enough for two."  
"Thanks, but I'll pass. You know my idea of roughing it is scratchy sheets on   
the bed."  
He chuckled. "Then I'll come say goodbye before I go down to the planet."  
"Please."  
He left so quickly that she almost laughed. It was like watching a little boy   
who just found out there was cake and ice cream waiting for him. She looked at   
her stacks again, and then searched the "nice" pile until she found the three   
PADDS she sought and placed them in the priority group.  
No one told me about all the paperwork, she thought again. First Officers have   
all the fun.  
*^*^*^*^  
ACT THREE  
(Day 3, On the Moon of the Second Planet)  
Welcome to another day of hell, Harry Kim thought sourly. Okay, not hell   
exactly--that was the planet they were orbiting. Purgatory would be a more apt   
description for this moon, a place where nothing interesting had happened, and   
nothing interesting was going to happen. If Marla had joined the team, it would   
have given them a chance to spend some more time with each other. But she'd been   
worried about propriety, though he couldn't see how this would--  
"That's enough."  
Harry deactivated his laser chisel to allow Tessoni to remove the exposed ore   
with the extractor. Then Tabor and Sharr would load the ore into the air sled,   
and Gallagher would guide the sled to the Sagan, where Vorik would unload it   
into the shuttle's cargo hold. Lessing and Jenkins were their scouts at the   
moment, scanning the nearby area for more accessible surface deposits of   
kolander. It was a regular clockwork operation, and a completely tedious one.  
Harry sighed, and glanced around. The landscape didn't help. Everywhere he   
looked he saw gray. The sky, the barren hills, the rocks, the dirt that covered   
all their uniforms and had settled in a fine dust over the Sagan's hull. It   
reminded Harry of the book Tom had given Naomi years ago...the Wizard of Oz,   
that was it. This place was like Dorothy had described Kansas, except that   
Kansas wasn't really gray. And there were trees and grass in Kansas, not to   
mention birds singing and insects chirping. Here what bits of flora survived   
were little more than stunted plants, as gray as the dirt and rock. It was   
completely silent, since the only indigenous animal life beyond microbes were a   
few primitive crawling insects that scurried among the rocks.  
"Lieutenant, your blood oxygen level is below 85% again."  
Harry glared at Gallagher, who ignored the look as she waved a medical scanner   
in front of him. "You're also breathing a little hard."  
That was the other reason Trish Gallagher was along on this mission--to monitor   
their oxygen levels and administer tri-ox. This moon was a Class L planetoid,   
with a thin, oxygen-deficient atmosphere, barely able to sustain humanoid   
life--if those humanoids didn't remain too long or exert themselves in any way.   
If they actually wanted to *breathe*, then it was tri-ox injections every couple   
of hours.  
"Here," Gallagher said, as she measured tri-ox into a hypo. "This might take   
care of it."  
"I just had a dose a little over an hour ago," Harry protested, though he didn't   
move as Gallagher pressed the hypo to his arm. It was better than wearing a   
breathing mask all the time, as the doctor had originally suggested. A chorus of   
protests had forced the doctor to relent to the tri-ox injections.  
Tabor dropped the last of the most recently extracted ore into the air sled.   
"This load is ready, Gallagher."  
Gallagher was studying her scanner, and didn't respond. "Ensign, we haven't got   
all day," Harry said sharply.  
"Lieutenant, your oxygen level is still a little low." She inclined her head,   
indicating the standing portable oxygen tank a couple of meters away.  
Gallagher saved him the humiliation of saying the words, but Harry felt   
chagrined anyway. How did it look for the leader of the team to need   
supplemental oxygen? Even if it was an indication that he was only human, it   
felt like a sign of weakness. He tossed his laser chisel on the ground in   
disgust as Tessoni asked, "Ten minute break?"  
Harry nodded, and Sharr yelled out, "Ten minutes!" in a voice loud enough for   
Vorik, Jenkins, and Lessing to hear in their slightly more distant locations.   
Harry saw the aft cargo door of the Sagan close as Vorik headed in their   
direction over the rocks, carrying a five liter bottle of water on one shoulder.   
Everyone reached for their canteens. Besides the enchanting scenery, the   
temperature of their little paradise hovered at a very warm thirty-seven degrees   
centigrade, though Vorik had deemed it a comfortably dry heat.  
Comfortable, my ass, Harry thought as he jerked the face-mask free of its anchor   
and placed it over his face. Though he resented the need, his first breath of   
pure oxygen made him realize he had been feeling a little light-headed.  
"We found another surface vein of kolander ore," Lora Jenkins announced as she   
and Noah Lessing rounded an outcropping of rocks. "It may be large enough to   
provide the rest of our supply. There is some surface lava too, but it's only   
one trail."  
The ancient and still active volcano that could be seen twenty kilometers away   
was the reason for the abundance of kolander ore in this area. Only a thin smoky   
plume was visible from the summit, but the lava channels reached this distance.  
"We took a reading and the gas level is within acceptable limits," Lessing added   
as he held out his canteen for a refill. His voice was slightly breathless, and   
Gallagher immediately started scanning him.  
"It's half a kilometer to the northeast," Jenkins added.  
"We've just about played out this deposit," Tessoni said. "I say we move over   
there now."  
Harry moved away from the oxygen tank, revitalized after several deep breaths.   
"Agreed. We'll move to that location."  
"I don't suppose it's a little cooler over there?" Gallagher asked, pressing a   
hypo to Lessing's arm.  
Tabor snorted. "On this hellhole?"  
"Hey!" Jenkins protested. "Cupid is an okay place."  
Harry rolled his eyes. Renlay Sharr had come up with that name, likening the   
second planet's position to that of Venus in the Solar system. Thus, Cupid for   
the moon orbiting it. It was a ridiculous name, but it would no doubt stick,   
since everyone was using it freely.  
Lessing shook his head. "Cupid wouldn't be my first choice for shore leave. Or   
second, or seventieth..."  
"You're next," Gallagher said, pointing toward the oxygen tank. Lessing didn't   
look any happier at the order than Harry had been.  
"What about me?" Jenkins asked.  
"Another dose of tri-ox should be enough for you."  
"Have you noticed how the women have more endurance than the men?" Sharr asked   
with an innocent look on her face.  
Tabor opened his mouth, but Vorik spoke first. "Females process oxygen more   
efficiently than males. However, that disparity occurs within a given species.   
As a Vulcan, I have an eighty-five percent greater lung capacity than you do,   
Ensign Sharr, which is why I have no need of tri-ox supplements."  
Vorik was stating a fact, but there was a note of superiority in his voice that   
always seemed to come naturally to Vulcans. It earned him several scowls. Vorik   
merely raised an eyebrow.  
"Tessoni and I will finish the scouting at the new site," Harry said, diverting   
the conversation back to the more immediate subject. "The rest of you can bring   
the equipment in the Sagan." Half a kilometer was too far to carry the   
equipment, given the atmospheric conditions, even in the lower gravity. Unless   
they put it all on Vorik's back, which was a thought.  
There were several "yes, Sirs" before Vorik spoke. "Given my Vulcan stamina and   
acclimation to these atmospheric conditions, I would suggest that I proceed   
ahead--"  
"You were on scout duty yesterday," Harry reminded Vorik. They'd set up an   
alternating duty schedule to help relieve the tedium of the mission, and he   
planned to stick to it.  
"Logic would dictate--"  
"Tessoni and I will go," Harry said in a voice that brooked no further argument.   
He was more than capable of doing the job, Vulcan stamina or not. Vorik nodded   
without further protest.  
Everyone moved quickly to their tasks, well versed with the procedures after a   
day and a half on the moon. In a few minutes the Sagan was loaded and Harry and   
Tessoni were on their way to the new site, Tessoni freshly injected with tri-ox.   
They arrived at the site only slightly out of breath, and in time to see the   
Sagan land from its brief, nearly straight up and down journey. The shuttle   
touched down with a hard bump and Tessoni grinned at Harry, both knowing it was   
Tabor doing the driving. Solid engineer he might be, but as a shuttle pilot he   
left something to be desired.  
"Here's a marker," Tessoni said.  
Harry turned his attention from the Sagan. It would take the rest of the team a   
few minutes to get the equipment up on the rocks. He joined Tessoni, scanning   
the marked crevices to find the best location to begin the extraction. It didn't   
take long to locate the heaviest concentration of kolander ore.  
"Hey, here's the lava channel."  
Tessoni had clambered to the other side of a big boulder. Harry could just see   
the small flow of lava snaking between some of the rocks, passing a meter from   
Tessoni's feet.  
"This lava is gray."  
"That's hardly a surprise on this moon," Harry said, though he knew lava lost   
its molten red color as it got further from its volcano source. He turned his   
attention back to his scanner. "Just don't touch it. From what I remember of my   
geology class, it's still hot."  
"Yeah. I can feel the heat from here. It's moving really slow, like   
molasses--HOLY MOTHER OF--!"  
Harry turned to see Tessoni jump backwards as if he'd been bitten. His hand went   
immediately to his phaser as he scrambled in Tessoni's direction, though there   
was no living creature on the moon that could be a threat. "What's wrong?!"  
Tessoni had removed his phaser too. Maybe that's what had sent Harry   
automatically reaching for his. The crewman aimed his phaser at the slow-flowing   
lava. "There's something in there!"  
"What?" Harry frowned, and looked closely at the lava. Its movement was barely   
perceptible as it slugged along. In a couple of spots large bubbles formed on   
the surface, then disappeared again. "I don't see anything, Angelo."  
"Well, I did!"  
Harry frowned at Tessoni's frantic tone as he replaced his phaser and activated   
his scanner. All he read was lava, and its constituent elements--silicon,   
sodium, and potassium... "Maybe it was one of those bubbles."  
"It wasn't a bubble," Tessoni said, his voice certain, and calmer. "Something   
rose out of the lava. It had a triangular shape, and it moved like it was   
alive."  
That made no sense. Nothing was alive here except some bacteria and a few measly   
insects. "Maybe it was a piece of..." Harry paused. There was no wood or   
anything else buoyant around here either. "Maybe the lava hit a rock and formed   
some sort of uplift--"  
"What are you two doing?"  
Harry jumped at the unexpected voice and looked back. Gallagher was staring at   
them, her expression curious, while Vorik dropped a load of equipment next to   
her.  
"Tessoni saw some movement in the lava," Harry said.  
"Movement?" Gallagher activated her medical scanner. "Something alive? How big   
was it?"  
"The fauna on this moon is limited to bacteria and primitive arthropods," Vorik   
said. Then he activated his scanner. "How long did you observe the motion,   
Mister Tessoni?"  
"It just popped out of the lava for a moment or two. Then it was gone again. It   
looked sort of like a...fin."  
Vorik's eyebrow rose. "A fin?" He looked at his scanner. "I am detecting nothing   
except lava and its chemical components."  
"I didn't get anything either," Harry said. He saw Tessoni shake his head in   
frustration. "Though some time has passed--"  
"What's going on?"  
The rest of the team had arrived and Gallagher shot them an irreverent grin.   
"We're looking for lava sharks."  
"Trish..."  
Tessoni spoke over Harry's warning tone. "It was probably nothing." He slapped   
his phaser back on his belt and gave Gallagher a reproachful look before he   
walked away.  
Harry decided it was time to end this. Whatever Tessoni had seen, it was gone   
now. "Okay, let's get back to work," he said, getting everyone's attention as   
Lessing patted Tessoni on the shoulder. "I found a good spot to start the   
extraction--"  
"An object is surfacing at six degrees southeast."  
Everyone turned at Vorik's words. Sharr pulled out her phaser, though the   
disturbance in the lava flow was a dozen meters downstream. Harry was amazed to   
see something breaking the surface. It was vaguely fin-shaped, and dark gray   
like the lava, only more...bumpy. That was the best he could do in the moment or   
two he had to observe it before it disappeared again. There was silence for   
several seconds.  
"It looked sort of like a rock," Jenkins said first, her voice uncertain.  
Its movement had looked more purposeful to Harry. "How could a rock that big   
just pop to the surface?" Tabor asked, and no one answered.  
"Vorik?"  
Vorik was staring at his scanner, his expression akin to consternation. He   
looked up at Harry. "I read nothing unequivocally organic. The...object is   
similar in composition to the lava. However it did contain a high concentration   
of silicon in crystallized form."  
"Silicon..." Tabor mused. "Hey, it could be alive! Like the Horta."  
Jenkins stepped back from the lava channel. "The first Horta killed several   
people before they figured out what it was."  
Sharr snorted. "This lifeform, *if* it's a lifeform, lives in lava. Unless you   
plan to go swimming in there, I think you're safe."  
"There is no clear evidence that it is alive," Vorik said. "Silicon life is a   
rare phenomenon."  
"And difficult to detect," Sharr added.  
"Indeed," Vorik replied. "Complex chains do not indicate life with certainty.   
This could be an inorganic crystal formation."  
"One that is self-propelled?" Lessing asked. "Because it sure looked like that   
thing was moving under its own steam, and faster than the lava is flowing."  
"Your observation is correct," Vorik said. "However, we still cannot conclude   
the object is alive without further observation and better scanning equipment."  
"And we won't be here long enough for that," Gallagher said.  
"Commander Chakotay is starting his archeological dig," Tabor said. "He'd like   
to have time to do it right."  
"No way!" Jenkins shook her head emphatically. "We're just here long enough to   
resupply the ship, then we're on our way home."  
Tabor's eyes narrowed at her tone. "You don't make the decisions, Jenkins.   
Finding another silicon lifeform would be a big deal."  
"Not big enough to delay us getting home."  
"Tabor is right," Harry said, interrupting their budding argument. He didn't   
want a fight to start over a 'maybe' silicon lifeform. "We don't make those   
decisions."  
"We have Vorik's scans," Gallagher said. "Maybe the biolab can analyze them and   
get a more definitive answer."  
Sharr nodded. "We can keep an eye out for it while we're here."  
"I haven't seen any more movement." Tessoni looked disappointed as he stared   
downstream. "It might be past us now."  
"There could be more than one," Jenkins said. Her eyes widened. "Maybe it has   
friends."  
"We're supposed to be doing a job here," Harry reminded everyone amidst the   
chuckles. "Renlay, you can periodically monitor the lava channel for   
the...whatever it is, and if you get anything we'll turn it over along with   
Vorik's scans when we get back to Voyager. Now, lets get back to work."  
Gallagher pulled out her medical scanner. "I want to check everyone's oxygen   
levels before we get started."  
Once she had done that, and administered tri-ox where needed, Harry led the team   
to the point he'd chosen to start the extraction. Then he joined Lessing at the   
air sled. "It would be a coup to discover a silicon lifeform," Lessing said as   
they prepared the sled for the next load of ore.  
"I suppose it would," Harry agreed. If it were any other time in their journey   
he'd be eager for a more thorough investigation. "But we've already got a lot of   
coups to our credit. And this system isn't that far beyond the Federation's   
exploratory boundaries. Starfleet will be happy enough to have an advance report   
on the prospect, if that's all we have."  
"I guess." Lessing sighed, then smiled wryly. "Truthfully, the closer we get,   
the less eager I am to get back to Earth."  
Harry knew Marla wasn't looking forward to it, but he'd assumed Noah would be   
happy to get home, if only for his daughter. "What about Hannah? Don't you want   
to see her?"  
"Of course! That is the one thing that's keeping me going, knowing I'll be   
spending time with her." Lessing frowned. "If I'm free to spend time with her,   
that is."  
Harry knew Noah was talking about the possibility of prison, though he couldn't   
see that happening. "I'm sure you'll have lots of time to spend with your   
daughter when we get home."  
"I hope so," Lessing said. "Angelo seems to think we're going to be welcomed in   
the Federation because of Voyager's exploits. I think that's Tal Celes talking.   
Since they've been involved, she's been rubbing off on him."  
Harry didn't think that was such a bad thing. Tal was focused on the positive.   
He was like that too. Tom always insisted, only half in jest that expecting the   
worst meant you might be pleasantly surprised, but Harry couldn't change who he   
was. "Noah, I think Angelo has the right idea."  
Noah shrugged. "I am hoping for the best. But even the Maquis crewmembers are   
tense right now."  
Harry was well aware of the undercurrent of tension that had been building on   
the ship recently. It was impossible not to be. "That's just nerves. I really   
think everything will work out, but it's the not knowing for sure that's hard on   
everyone." It was certainly eating at Marla.  
"Not knowing." Lessing's lips curved in a bitter smile. "Funny how we've spent   
all this time in the Delta quadrant--in the unknown--and now that we're about to   
get home, that concept's not any more secure. Not for some of us, anyway. No   
offense, Harry."  
Harry didn't take any. "I know it's not the same, but we're all nervous, Noah.   
We've been gone for eight years, and a lot of things have changed. People back   
home have changed." He thought fleetingly of Libby, and of the Dominion War.   
"None of us feels exactly sure where our place will be now."  
"No, I guess not," Lessing said. "I just hope we can all stay friends."  
"Why wouldn't we?" Harry asked. Just because there was a little tension, that   
didn't mean everyone would start breaking ranks. The ties they'd forged on   
Voyager weren't the temporary sort that would disappear once the circumstances   
changed--  
"Hey, loafers! We've got some ore ready to be loaded here."  
Harry looked at Tabor and Jenkins, who were waving for attention. He waved back,   
and the two shared a look of mock disgust before turning back to their work.  
Harry smiled as he helped Noah guide the air sled over the rocks. What was a   
little tension between friends--or family? It always resolved itself in the end.   
This would, as soon as they got home. He was sure of it.  
Now, if there was only a way to speed up this extraction process so he could got   
off this boring moon already, Harry thought as he hefted an armload of ore...  
*^*^*^*^  
(Day 3, On the Surface of the Moon of the Third Planet)  
As soon as the transporter beam released them, they both turned slowly in place,   
surveying the area. The white-gray clay they were standing on contrasted starkly   
with the blackness of space on the horizon. It looked very much like Earth's   
moon, Paris thought. 'Magnificent Desolation' was how Buzz Aldrin had described   
it. He met Carey's eyes, and they both grinned. Clearly, they had drawn the   
coolest away mission.  
Carey activated the tricorder to locate the anomalous readings, then nodded in   
the direction of a shallow incline. Silently, they began walking.  
Despite the awkwardness of the EVA suit, Paris could feel himself relaxing with   
each step. This was a peaceful place - it seemed a million kilometers away from   
the bustle of activity on Voyager, and in his life. He didn't know what the   
anomalous readings would turn out to be, but he was certain there was no one   
else here. All he could hear inside the suit was the sound of his own breathing,   
and then, abruptly, the sound of his own impressive yawn.  
"Am I keeping you awake?" Carey chuckled, over the headset.  
"No, that would be my daughter," Paris replied. "I was up with her at 0300   
again, for the second night in a row. I don't know why she's not sleeping   
through, all of a sudden. We think she might be teething."  
"I used to kind of enjoy being up with mine in the middle of the night," Carey   
said. "I always took the night feedings whenever I was home. It was quiet, and I   
got to have whichever son it was all to myself."  
"I like it, too," Paris admitted. "But don't tell B'Elanna. She thinks I'm being   
selfless."  
Carey snorted, and Paris continued. "Actually, Miral fell back asleep pretty   
quickly last night. I was reading Jules Verne aloud to her, and she nodded right   
off. I'd gotten to a good part, though, so I just kept going. It's my own fault   
I'm so tired."  
"Twenty Thousand Leagues?" Carey asked.  
"Yep," Paris replied. "A classic."  
"I started to read that one to JJ on my last leave, right before we left for the   
Badlands," Carey said. "Guess he's probably gone ahead and finished it by now,"   
he added, a little wistfully.  
Paris clapped him on the shoulder. "That's okay," he said, cheerfully. "When we   
get home, the two of you can find a holosuite, and do the program. It's pretty   
good, from what I remember."  
They stopped talking as the incline became steeper. It took some effort to reach   
the top, and then they both stopped simultaneously, stunned.  
"Damn," Paris said, almost reverently, as Carey let out a low whistle.  
They were standing at the top of small rise. On the other side, spread out   
before them, were various pieces of equipment, long abandoned.  
Paris nodded to Carey, and they both walked down the hill for a closer   
inspection.  
"This looks like lunar exploration equipment," he said. He gestured towards the   
largest object, a metallic disk, with legs. "That was probably the base of the   
lander. And look..."  
Several sampling trowels and a hand auger lay on the ground near the lander.   
There was also what appeared to be a pushcart, with large wheels - perhaps for   
hauling larger rock samples back to the ship.  
Carey was scanning the objects with his tricorder. "This is definitely the   
source of the readings," he confirmed. "But this stuff is thousands of years   
old." He looked up at the blue-green planet above them. "I wonder who they   
were..."  
"And what happened to them," Paris added. The planet was definitely uninhabited   
now. Had their civilization self-destructed in some way? There was pathos in   
this abandoned equipment, evidence of someone's effort to step beyond their   
world - to explore what lay beyond.  
Yet they hadn't seen any evidence of a planetary disaster in their initial   
reconnaissance of the planet. Perhaps its inhabitants had simply left, or been   
forced to leave. It was a mystery. Maybe Chakotay's team would be able to piece   
together what happened to them.  
"Look!" Carey said, suddenly. "Footprints!"  
Sure enough, there were footprints in the dust, everywhere. With nothing to   
disturb them, they had been perfectly preserved. Their feet had been a bit   
smaller than the average human's, but they had definitely been bipedal.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Paris saw some other markings near the cart. He   
knelt down for a closer look. Someone had used the trowel to scratch deliberate   
lines into the soil. A name, perhaps? Paris smiled, remembering that the last   
Apollo astronaut to stand on Earth's moon, Gene Cernan, had scratched his   
daughter's initials into the dust at Taurus-Littrow. When an international team   
returned to the site a century later, they were still there.  
Carey wandered over to the other side of the lander. A pentagonal cylinder,   
about a half-meter high, had been anchored into the soil. He bent down to scan   
it. It appeared to be some sort of sealed container. There were markings etched   
into the metallic surface. He recognized some of them as triskeles, circles   
trisected by three arcs joined at the midpoint.  
"Tom," he called over the head set, "Come and take a look at this."  
Paris loped over, and together they scrutinized the cylinder. Paris rubbed a   
gloved finger over the markings on the top of the container - a rudimentary   
sketch of this solar system.  
"You know what I think this is?" Paris said, thoughtfully. "I think it's their   
version of the old Earth SETI tapes, or the Friendship One probe. It may contain   
information that they hoped someone might find someday."  
"And here we are," Carey grinned. He looked at the tricorder readings. "There   
are objects inside," he confirmed. "I can't positively identify them, but these   
here..." he tapped at the display, "these might be data storage devices."  
"We should take it," Paris said. "I think, if we're careful, we can cut through   
these anchors with our phasers set on narrow beam."  
They went to work. It was a two-man job, because one of them had to tilt the   
cylinder out of the way while the other meticulously sliced through each anchor,   
a job made more difficult by the bulky gloves. Whoever had left the cylinder   
clearly hadn't wanted it to move by accident. It was anchored in six places.   
They alternated with the phaser work, to keep their hands from cramping.  
When they were about halfway through, Carey looked up at the black sky. "This is   
taking a while," he said. "Should we check in with Icheb and Naomi?"  
"Nah," Paris said. "They're picking up our biosigns. They know we're all right.   
Let's let them talk."  
Carey nodded, and moved again to shift the container when Paris indicated he was   
ready.  
"I've noticed that a lot of people are on edge, lately," Carey commented, after   
a moment. "It seems that the closer we get to home...people are getting   
anxious."  
"Some of them have good reason to be anxious," Paris said. "There's a lot of   
uncertainty, especially for the Maquis, and the Equinox crew."  
"Oh, I know," Carey said. "But I feel like I'm in the minority, wanting so much   
to get home. I know things will be strange when this journey ends, but I also   
know that I'm dying to see Annie and the boys. Tomorrow wouldn't even be soon   
enough."  
Paris stood, and Carey switched places with him. With most of the anchors cut,   
now, the task was getting done faster.  
"It's funny," Paris said. "Up until our last transmission, I had no real   
personal interest in getting home. My life - everyone and everything I cared   
about - was on this ship. But then I finally got to see Mom and speak to Dad. I   
realized that I'm no longer the screw up I was the last time I saw them. So now   
I find myself almost looking forward to getting back. I'd like for Miral to grow   
up in a safer environment, for one thing, but I also want to see my parents, and   
I want for them to meet B'Elanna, and their new granddaughter. And I want to   
meet B'Elanna's family, what's left of them. Now, having some semblance of a   
normal life doesn't sound like such a bad thing."  
Carey finished with the fifth anchor, and quickly cut through the sixth one as   
well. They were done.  
While Paris hailed the shuttle and did a visual recording, Carey put some rocks   
into his pack. The people who had once lived on the planet had gone to a lot of   
trouble to come up here for some samples - it just seemed like the thing to do.   
Besides, they'd make nice souvenirs for the boys. Hopefully, he'd be seeing them   
soon.  
They lifted the container, which wasn't too heavy in the reduced gravity, and   
carried it several dozen meters away from the landing site, so the shuttle's   
transporters could get a clear lock. When they'd gone far enough, they stopped   
and turned around. Wordlessly, they took a last look at the poignant and   
mysterious remnants of a long-ago mission. In a moment, they would beam away,   
leaving only the silence and a few new footprints behind.  
The two men's eyes met. Tom shrugged and said, quietly, "You know, Joe, I'm glad   
I had the chance to share this experience with you, but . . ."  
"You're right, Tom," Joe replied. "I was thinking along the same lines myself."  
They nodded at each other. Paris hit his commbadge. "Away Team to Delta Flyer .   
. . "  
*^*^*^*^  
(Day 3, On the Moon of the Third Planet, in the Delta Flyer)  
Naomi smiled at Icheb, who was slouched back in the helm chair, facing back   
towards her seat, his long legs stretched out almost exactly the way Tom's were   
whenever the Flyer was safely parked and he could relax. They really were   
looking more like brothers every day.  
"You've definitely decided upon taking the engineering track at the Academy?" he   
asked.  
"Yes, I've decided that's what I really want. It was difficult decision. You   
know how much I love the sciences, but after that brainstorming session to get   
us back to our own time, I just knew. I don't want to give up my scientific   
experimentation totally, but solving a problem with other engineers is really   
exciting. I know there's lots of drudge work, too . . ."  
"Cleaning plasma manifolds? Fixing broken replicators?"  
Naomi laughed. "Yeah, and finding broken electrical conduits and fixing them,   
and stuff like that--I know that's not glamorous, or fun, but I've always really   
enjoyed using my hands, you know what I mean?" As Icheb started to chuckle,   
Naomi realized what she'd just said. "I can see that you don't! Now don't take   
that the wrong way, Cadet! I may have to use this phaser on stun!"  
"No, really, I do understand. You've always had a good sense of spatial   
geometry, and your math skills are excellent. You'll make a fine engineer."  
"Are you going into the command track because that's what is expected of a   
Paris?"  
"No, not really. It's the best way to put my love of astrometrics to practical   
use. I wouldn't mind studying field medicine, though. I'd like to take electives   
in genetics engineering, but I don't want that to be my primary field."  
"Just like Tom?" Naomi asked.  
"Tom isn't too interested in genetics engineering...except with B'Elanna."  
"Icheb! I can't believe you said that!" Naomi laughed, giving the cleaning rag   
she'd been using to wipe the surface of her sensor console a toss at his head.   
He caught it easily and had the grace to smile sheepishly with a shrug of his   
shoulders, but he didn't apologize. She wasn't really shocked. Icheb had been   
loosening up more and more, using humor to help himself fit in with the rest of   
the crew and, sometimes, to divert a conversation to a more comfortable topic.   
That was just like Tom, too.  
Even though everything had turned out well for everyone in the end, especially   
Marla Gilmore, the way Icheb had gotten emotionally carried away with his quest   
for a biological weapon to destroy the Borg still haunted him. Naomi also knew   
another sore point for him was the fact that Icheb himself had been created by   
his parents to be assimilated by the Borg, just to introduce a fatal virus into   
the Collective via his genetically- altered body. How must it feel to find out   
the parents you thought had loved you for yourself had actually conceived you   
only to be a sacrificial weapon?  
Icheb had willingly risked his life subsequently, offering his own cortical node   
to save Seven's life, without knowing if he would die by doing so, but that was   
different. That had been his own choice, and a noble one at that. Perhaps his   
parents had done a decent job of raising him, whatever their initial reason for   
having him, considering the warm and caring person he had become. Still, the   
knowledge they'd made not one but two attempts to sacrifice his life to destroy   
the Borg had to scar him forever in some ways. That he was a good person,   
wounded by a past he could never change--how much that was like Tom, too!  
Maybe that sense of his wounded soul was one of the reasons she had been   
attracted so strongly to him. 'Admit it, you love him still,' Naomi thought. She   
looked away then, aware she suddenly felt like crying.  
"Naomi, are you all right?" Icheb asked her.  
She looked down at her hands, clasped together tightly on top of her lap. "It's   
nothing, really."  
"You don't look like it's nothing. Something is bothering you."  
She sighed, raising her eyes to meet his concerned gaze. "I was just thinking   
about our ....our broken relationship. My feelings for you haven't changed, you   
know."  
It was Icheb's turn to glance away. "We still have a relationship, Naomi. I will   
always be your friend. You know that, don't you?"  
"My . . . 'friend.' Yeah, I know." She sighed sadly.  
Icheb got out of his chair and sat on the floor next to Naomi's seat. "I don't   
plan on losing track of you, Naomi--even if we are in different tracks at the   
Academy." He grimaced a little to emphasize the pun, and Naomi couldn't keep   
herself from smiling a little.  
"Different tracks. Different years. We won't be in many classes together any   
more, if any, once we get to the Academy. It will all be so different, Icheb,   
just like everything else will be different at 'home.' It won't be home to me!   
So many strangers, when I'm used to seeing the same group of people every day.   
I'm not used to strangers!"  
"It's not so bad," Icheb said encouragingly. "You'll get used to it--and   
everyone won't stay a stranger. Look at what's happened to me on Voyager. I have   
a whole family now, when I had nobody who cared about me before."  
"I know. Mom says that all the time, too." She gulped before continuing. "But   
I'm going to miss everyone so much--especially you. Even if I do see you every   
now and then, it won't be like on Voyager." It won't be like I wanted with you,   
she almost said, but that was a wound she didn't want to open up again.  
Icheb, however, seemed to have read her mind. "Naomi, if we really are meant for   
each other, we still will be, someday. I want to make sure I know where you are,   
all the time, so I can come to you whenever you need me--if you need me. But if   
that time comes, won't it be better to know we aren't together because we were   
'stuck' with each other, because we were the only ones of our age together on a   
starship? We will know we truly chose to be together for the rest of our lives   
because we couldn't bear to ever be apart."  
"I wouldn't have felt 'stuck with you,' Icheb. Do you think Tom feels 'stuck'   
with B'Elanna?"  
He shook his head. "Of course not. They found each other on Voyager-- but they'd   
had enough experience dating others to know what they wanted in a life mate once   
they got here. Neither of us can say the same, Naomi."  
"I know you're right, Icheb, but sometimes . . . well, sometimes it makes me   
lonely to think that maybe we won't find each other, in the end."  
"If that happens, it will be because you found someone you love better than me."  
"That won't ever happen," Naomi declared stubbornly. "Maybe, if we don't find   
each other later, it will be because you found someone you love more than me. I   
may love you, and only you, for the rest of my life. Ktarians can be like that,   
you know. That's how the whole tradition of life mates started in the first   
place."  
Icheb put out his hand and grasped hers. "In my heart I believe we will end up   
with each other some day, Naomi. I know what I feel for you. But you deserve to   
be sure of my feelings, and I should be sure of yours, too. The only way we can   
do that is to give each other the space to grow, to have the opportunity to love   
others, so we know we really are right for each other." He gave her hand a   
slight squeeze. "In the meantime, we're friends forever, no matter what."  
Naomi entwined her fingers through his and shook their joined hands. In a husky   
voice, she pledged, "Friends forever."  
They sat there, looking into each other's eyes to burn the moment into their   
memories for life. How long they sat there staring at each other Naomi didn't   
know, but the moment was shattered by a signal from the comm. It was the away   
team.  
"Yes, Lieutenant Paris?" Naomi responded.  
::How much EVA experience do you two have?::  
"I went outside Voyager to check on a warp nacelle with Commander Tuvok once,"   
Icheb said.  
"I know how to put on the suit!" Naomi said. "It's one of the first things I was   
taught as a child, as a safety measure. You wouldn't have let me on the Delta   
Flyer if I hadn't passed muster on that, Lieutenant Paris."  
::I knew that, of course! I was wondering if you ever had a chance to take a   
walk on an airless planet.::  
"Nope," both of them replied together.  
::So then, get your suits on. We have something to show you. Icheb, you   
transport over first. Joe will come back to the ship to accompany you   
afterwards, Naomi. Get ready for a little history lesson . . . ::  
"More lessons!" Naomi groaned, but with a quick wink at Icheb.  
::You bet. You're always a student, Naomi. That's the way life is.::  
As she waited for the signal to transport Joe Carey back to the Delta Flyer,   
Naomi watched Icheb while he eagerly pulled on his EVA suit. Just before he   
placed his helmet over his head, he turned towards her and smiled gently, in a   
way that always made her feel better whenever something worried her. She smiled   
back, whispering softly to herself once he had turned away to fasten his helmet   
around his neck, "Forever . . . that's the way it is."  
^*^*^*^*^*  
(Day Four, On Voyager)  
"Are we finished yet, Commander?" asked the EMH, his tone betraying his   
impatience.  
Tuvok did not look up from his PADD where he was correlating the results of the   
latest security drill with past performances by these individuals. As he had   
shuffled the groups somewhat since the last set of drills--it was illogical to   
assume that the same personnel would find themselves in the same consistent   
arrangement if and when disaster did strike--it required a few additional   
seconds. At last, he put his PADD aside.  
"Your efficiency performance shows an increase of 13%, Ensign," he said to Jamie   
McMinn ignoring the Doctor for the moment. "You are to be commended."  
McMinn looked surprised but pleased. "That's a first," she murmured to Tal Celes   
who stood beside her, nervously twisting her hands together. "I was sure that   
last part was going to trip me up."  
"Your rating was based upon your total performance in the scenario," Tuvok said,   
proving that his hearing was as acute as ever. He nodded at the holographic   
representation of the bridge crew. "Including your handling of your department   
when the rest of the senior staff was incapacitated."  
"We'd really be in trouble if I had to be in charge of my section," Celes said   
ruefully. She flinched slightly when Tuvok directed his gaze at her.  
"There is no need for any false modesty or self-deprecating comments," Tuvok   
admonished. "Your performance was more than adequate, Ensign Tal."  
"'More than adequate'--that's high praise!" McMinn grinned and squeezed the   
other woman's shoulder encouragingly. "I knew you had it in you!"  
"Indeed," Tuvok said as he turned to the next member of the group, Lora Jenkins.  
The Doctor cut in, "You didn't answer my question, Mr. Tuvok. My time is very   
valuable--"  
"As are the security drills," Tuvok stated.  
"--and I wouldn't dream of asking to be excused, but as my part is apparently   
finished and I have a multitude of tasks to accomplish in Sickbay--"  
"Which Ensign Gallagher is more than capable of handling in your absence--"  
"I would appreciate it if I could be excused!" The Doctor finished with an   
audible harumph.  
Tuvok cocked one eyebrow. "Your holonovel can wait an additional few minutes,   
Doctor."  
"I do have other pursuits," the Doctor shot back. "I wasn't referring to any   
extracurricular activities, but to my duties as chief medical   
officer--specifically, the myriad reports I have been ordered to have ready for   
Starfleet in anticipation of our arrival."  
"If you have been keeping up with your departmental reports as stipulated by   
Starfleet Regulation 4--"  
"Of course I have--you can check with the First Officer if you wish." If the   
Doctor had looked annoyed before, he was definitely so now. "These are the   
additional ones that were requested in the latest communiqué from Headquarters   
and Starfleet Medical."  
"I see." Tuvok conceded the point; every senior officer--as well as many junior   
ones--who was not currently on regular duty or in rotation for one of the away   
teams was putting in several additional hours satisfying Starfleet's recent   
'requests.' He himself had quite a sizable amount of 'paperwork' to do as   
well--not least of which was adding the ratings from his most recent security   
drills to the individual personnel files. "You are excused, Doctor."  
"I don't blame him for getting huffy," Lora Jenkins said, watching the Doctor   
stride toward the exit of the holodeck. "Why should he have to go through   
this--he's got those 'emergency command codes' after all."  
Julia Harper snorted. "It's not just a question of 'take the necessary data and   
plug it in'--theoretical knowledge is pretty meaningless without practical   
experience to back it up. The Doctor's extra subroutines are the equivalent of   
going through Academy training protocols, but that's it."  
"Well said, Ensign Harper," Tuvok noted, although truth be told, there had been   
instances during the ship's journey when the Doctor had been forced to take   
charge of an emergency situation. But even the captain and first officer were   
required to go through these drills. He turned his attention back to the ensigns   
facing him expectantly. He would have expected nothing less from a member of his   
own department, but he could not deny that he found Harper's comments--and quick   
defense of the value of these training programs--gratifying. He tapped his PADD   
and made a few final notations. "You are all dismissed."  
He watched them file out without delay, clearly glad to be done with the   
exercise. He had put them through their paces this afternoon, but it had been   
necessary. As his old mentor at the Academy had often noted, constant vigilance   
was essential. Some might say that with Voyager's actual experiences the crew   
had more than enough experience with security breaches and disaster scenarios,   
but additional practice could only help. And he had his own reasons for making   
sure the crew could meet every exacting standard that Starfleet chose to set for   
them.  
He made his way rapidly through the length of the simulated engineering sections   
and bridge, ignoring the crewmembers who lay in unnatural positions on the floor   
or draped over sparking consoles, not even pausing at the sight of the downed   
holographic representation of himself. Prior to exiting he said, "Computer, end   
program and save as Tuvok Disaster Training Protocol Chi 47 Alpha."  
The characters and bridge vanished, to be replaced by the dull gold and black   
walls of the holodeck.  
***  
Tuvok had only been working at his desk for 2.6 hours when the door signal to   
his office chimed. "Come in."  
Captain Janeway entered. Tuvok at once rose to his feet. "Captain, how may I   
assist you?"  
She waved him back to his seat. "No, don't get up, please." She sat down in the   
chair on the other side of his desk.  
"I was going to contact you once I had finished the final summaries of the   
latest security simulations," he said. "However, I can give you the preliminary   
results now, if you wish." The captain did not often drop by his office,   
preferring to have him report to her Ready Room instead. He waited to hear her   
reason for breaking with custom now.  
Janeway stifled a yawn. "I can wait." She leaned forward. "This isn't exactly an   
official visit. I needed a break, so I thought I'd take a little walk around the   
ship, then decided to stop by and see how you're doing."  
He knew that Commander Chakotay was still on the archaeological expedition and   
was not slated to return for another 1.3 days. "I believe I could benefit from a   
small break myself."  
The captain smiled. "Exactly what I was thinking." She idly picked up a stylus   
and tapped the surface of the desk. "It seems like we haven't had a chance to   
sit and talk much lately."  
"It has been a busy period," he agreed.  
"But I still should have made some time," she said. Again, he noted her hand   
moving aimlessly, almost as if she were at a loss for something to do with it.   
"May I offer you some coffee, Captain?" Anticipating her affirmation, he started   
toward the replicator.  
"No, thank you," the captain said quickly. "I don't want any coffee."  
This was unexpected. Tuvok stopped and favored her with a long searching glance.   
"Are you sure? If you are concerned about your balance of replicator credits,   
consider this my treat."  
"That's very sweet of you, Tuvok, but really, I don't want any." She added, not   
entirely convincingly, "I'm trying to cut down."  
He raised one eyebrow but didn't pursue the issue. "Something else, perhaps?"  
Janeway paused, considering. "Juice would be nice."  
He handed her the glass a moment later and watched as she took a sip, then made   
an involuntarily face as if it did not meet with her specifications. "Is the   
drink satisfactory, Captain?"  
"Fine." Hastily, she took another few sips and then put the glass down. "So the   
security drills went well?"  
"I anticipate no problems when presenting the results to Starfleet Command."  
"I didn't mean in terms of that--but according to your standards of crew   
preparedness."  
"There are no problems there either, Captain."  
"That's good to know." She picked up her glass once more but put it down again   
untasted. "So where do you anticipate problems?"  
Cautiously, he said, "Did I give you reason to believe that I am anticipating   
difficulties of some sort, Captain?"  
She smiled wryly. "I've known you for far too long, Tuvok, not to know when   
something has you concerned."  
He touched a few controls on his computer and then turned the monitor around so   
she could read it more comfortably.  
"'Assessment of the Security Risks Associated with the Former Maquis Members of   
Voyager,'" she read aloud. Her eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise as she   
continued reading to herself. When she was finished she was silent for a long   
moment. "This is a brief arguing for granting full clemency for the Maquis, as   
well as recognition of their field commissions based on loyal service of the   
past eight years," she said, clearly touched. "With special emphasis on the   
opportunities they had to take over the ship which they refused to take   
advantage of. Coming from the ship's Head of Security, this is sure to carry a   
lot of weight. But I didn't ask you to do this, Tuvok."  
He nodded. "I do not anticipate that Starfleet will require much in the way of   
independent proof of the Maquis' contribution to Voyager's well-being; however,   
it is best to always be prepared. For all contingencies."  
"'Constant vigilance'," she agreed. At his questioning look, she said lightly,   
"You weren't the only one who studied under Professor Rowling."  
By her deft changing of the subject, he could tell she did not wish to discuss   
the matter any further. And so for the remainder of her visit, they discussed   
neutral topics--the latest family news she had received from her sister, his   
granddaughter's upcoming Bonding. Topics as far removed from Starfleet, from the   
political situation in the Alpha Quadrant, as possible.  
^*^*^*^*^*  
Act Four  
(Day 5, Late Morning, On the Third Planet - Archeological Site A)  
Chakotay rocked back on his heels and lifted his hat to wipe his forehead. It   
was hot, and he needed a break. Setting his trowel on the ground, he stood and   
walked toward the large tent on the edge of the worksite. A small snake, no   
broader than his thumb, slithered across the toe of his shoe and he watched,   
amused. There were a number of small snakes at this site, as well as insects,   
but it didn't matter. It was the first time in years that he had been able to   
really practice his avocation, and a few annoying insects and curious snakes   
were not going to detract from his pleasure.  
This was the part of archeology he liked best, when the initial excavation was   
done and he could get down in the dirt and see what was there. In the   
twenty-fourth century, the maps and guesses used by earlier archeologists had   
been replaced by precision scanners, while transporters supplanted back hoes and   
bulldozers, making it faster and easier to expose the treasures hidden beneath   
the topsoil. After only five days of work, they had laid open the boundaries of   
a complex that encompassed slightly more than a square kilometer. Trenches that   
were two meters deep showed the outline of what had been a small settlement some   
five hundred years earlier. The more recent site that Telfer had stumbled across   
(now given the dully practical name of "Site B") proved even larger but Chakotay   
was more interested in this location (dubbed "Site A"). Yesterday they had   
located two separate middens; after only a day of sifting they already had   
enough artifacts for a museum display.  
It could require months, even years, to fully plumb the secrets of this site   
alone. He had less than two days left.  
The heat and humidity continued unabated, and he had made some changes in normal   
protocol in response. After tramping through the jungle on the Norratii planet   
with Ayala and Wildman, he knew that Starfleet's all-weather uniforms would be   
virtually useless in providing any comfort. With the Captain's permission, he   
allowed the team to work in civilian clothes designed for this climate. He was   
wearing khaki pants, a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows,   
and a fedora to ward off the heat. There was a leather jacket back in his tent   
for after sunset, when the temperature dropped. It was well into the third day   
before he realized with some chagrin that he had chosen clothing virtually   
identical to that which his father had frequently worn on digs.  
::Janeway to Chakotay::  
"Chakotay here. Is it 1900 already?"  
::And then some. How's it coming?::  
"We're making good progress, but there is so much here." He paused. "I don't   
suppose we can stay a few extra days?"  
Although he was expecting her to chuckle - he knew that ruins, no matter how   
fascinating, could not take precedence over getting home - she sighed loud   
enough to carry over the comm system. ::I almost wish we could. It might give me   
enough time to get through this paperwork.::  
Guilt shot through him like an arrow. "I could come up and help you."  
::Thanks, but there's no sense in both of us being miserable. You're enjoying   
yourself, aren't you?::  
"Yes. I am." There was another small twinge of guilt. "Are you sure you don't   
need my help?"  
::I'd rather you stay there and get as complete a report as possible. Starfleet   
knows nothing about this system.:: There was another sigh. ::Will you stay down   
there again tonight?::  
"I'd planned on it, but I can come back to the ship if-"  
::No, you may as well stay. I won't be good company, anyway. Once I finish   
reading everything, I have to start writing.::  
Even though she couldn't see him, he nodded and smiled, unable to resist   
needling her just a bit. "Sounds like you'll need a pot of coffee."  
There was a pause, and then, ::Wanting and needing are two different things,   
Commander. I'll be fine with fruit juice and Altair water.::  
"There's no need to be a martyr, Kathryn. Just think about how good a cup of   
Kona blend would taste."  
She finally laughed. ::You can be evil, can't you? Get back to work.::  
"Call to say goodnight," he said.  
::I will. Have fun.::  
He stood and stretched. The weather also required frequent rest breaks, to get   
out of the sun and to rehydrate. There was a large tent nearby, holding several   
tables. Containers of water and cups had been set on one while the others held   
the detritus of the village they were investigating. He made a straight line for   
the water table and poured a glass.  
"Commander," Sarexa called from one of the worktables. "I think you'll want to   
see this."  
After taking a deep sip, he went over to her. "What have you got?"  
Using delicately handled tongs, she lifted a dirty piece of leather. "It was a   
shoe," she said.  
He looked at it closely and saw that she was right. There was still a fragment   
of sole, made from two layers of pressed leather attached to the remains of an   
upper segment made from a lighter colored leather. It seemed to corroborate a   
theory he had formed based on a piece of tibia they had found earlier: the   
aliens were probably no larger than the native Pojzans who now shared their   
world with Seven, Axum and the other former Borg. The bone fragment, found at a   
different spot in site A, had a fully formed growth plate and belonged to an   
adult. "This is remarkable. It's the most intact remnant we've found yet. Be   
sure you label it when you finish cleaning. Where did it come from?"  
"The east trash pile."  
"Midden," he said gently. "The correct term is midden."  
"The east midden, then. Although trash is trash and on Talaxia we wouldn't   
bother to make it sound glamorous." She glanced over at the table holding the   
relics already cleaned and labeled. "Such a lot of bits and pieces. Can you   
really tell much from them?"  
"We've learned a lot in the past few days." Chakotay handed the shoe back to her   
and sat on a stool. "This shoe tells us they were probably bipedal. Based on the   
piece of tibia we found and your shoe, we can guess that they were probably   
short, at least by Human standards. The fragments of dinnerware and utensils we   
found suggest they were humanoid. From the analysis of the scattered teeth and   
jawbones we've found, it's apparent they were omnivores, consuming both plant   
and animal tissue. And we know they were very fond of jewelry. The majority of   
what we've found appears to be fragments of personal ornaments. What we don't   
know is whether the ornaments served a purpose other than personal adornment.   
We're finding triskele similar to the one Paris and Carey found on the moon as a   
recurring pattern, but so far there's nothing to tell us whether it has any   
symbolic meaning or if it was just a popular pattern."  
"Oh, my." Sarexa looked at the table, then back at him. "I didn't realize we   
knew all that."  
"Well, you haven't had a chance to see all the data."  
"Have we found anything older than five hundred years?"  
"No, but remember, there are a lot of layers beneath our excavation. We probably   
won't be able to determine the age any more accurately in the time we have left   
to work. Tomorrow at 1700 is our absolute end time." He pointed to the shoe.   
"Have you checked the age on that yet?"  
"The molecular dating says it's between two hundred and seventy five and three   
hundred years old."  
He nodded. "That's in keeping with the rest of this layer. Nothing more recent   
than that. It's possible they abandoned this site in favor of the newer one   
Telfer found."  
"It really is interesting, isn't it?" she said. "The Borg would never   
understand. If they couldn't assimilate the knowledge, they'd called it   
irrelevant and moved on."  
Chakotay watched the way she worked with the ancient shoe. "For someone who had   
no special training before this, you're doing very well. You've got a good eye   
and a sure hand."  
She looked up and smiled broadly. "Thank you, Commander. I have to admit, I am   
enjoying myself. I was even thinking-" Suddenly she stopped, and her smile   
faded.  
"What's wrong?"  
"Nothing," she replied, but she fixed her eyes on the shoe and kept them there   
as she spoke. "I was just thinking that maybe I could learn more about this once   
we arrive on Earth."  
She sounded uncertain, which was unusual for her. Sarexa had never been as   
strident as Seven when she was first rescued from the Collective, but she had   
never been slow with her own opinions, either. Chakotay pulled a stool over and   
sat down. "Of course you could. But don't you and Neelix have plans?"  
"Not exactly," she said. "I mean, Neelix has plans. He has plans for every day   
of the week, I think. He's going to open a restaurant, and he's going to enroll   
in Starfleet Academy and he's going to be a diplomat and he's going to write the   
history of the Talaxian-Haakonian War and he's going to visit Vulcan. He's got   
lots of plans."  
"Ah." It was clear she didn't see a place for herself in any of his scenarios.   
"I guess I had assumed the two of you, um, would be doing things together. You   
seem so close."  
"We are," she said quickly. "Neelix is my best friend. But..."  
He waited for her to finish her sentence, then prodded gently. "But?"  
"How do you know when someone loves you for what you are and not just because   
you're the only ... option... he has?" As soon as she asked the question, her   
eyes opened in horror, then squeezed shut. "I'm sorry, Commander. You don't have   
time to listen to me run on."  
"Don't worry about the time," he said. He couldn't help thinking back to New   
Earth; he had asked himself the same question there, more than once. "I don't   
think I have a good answer for you, Sarexa. You have to trust your heart, I   
guess. The other side of that question is just as important: how do you know   
that you love someone for what he is, and not just because he seems to be your   
only choice?"  
"'Seems to be'?"  
"That's right." Chakotay smiled gently. "Wait until we get back home. There's   
only a handful of worlds represented on Voyager, but there are over two hundred   
worlds in the Federation, and more who are allies or neutrals or even our   
enemies. You may find yourself more comfortable with one of them than with us."  
She asked quietly, "Is there anyone like Neelix?"  
"I can honestly say that I've never met anyone quite like Neelix, in any part of   
the galaxy." He touched her hand. "Perhaps you should talk to him about this."  
Before she could answer, Ayala staggered into the tent, carrying a sheet of   
metal that was at least a square meter. "Chakotay," he gasped, "you need to see   
this."  
Chakotay rose immediately and helped Ayala lay the object on the table. The   
metal must have been very dense, for although it was thin it was very heavy. The   
surface had been cleaned to a shiny gunmetal gray, except for a few streaks of   
stubborn dirt, and a large area that was scorched black. As he set it down, a   
small snake dropped to the ground and slid quickly away.  
"Oh, man," Ayala said, his face contorting into a painful grimace. "I hate   
snakes! Why do you keep bringing me to places with snakes?"  
"This looks like a piece of wall," Chakotay said, ignoring the question. "Where   
did you find it?"  
"It was adjacent to the north trench, about a half a meter down." Ayala used the   
back of his hand to wipe his brow. "I almost missed it. There's so much debris,   
the tricorders are having trouble sorting things out at close range. But an edge   
of the corner was exposed."  
Chakotay studied the blackened area, running his fingers just above it without   
actually touching it. "This looks like phaser burn."  
Ayala nodded, and handed him a tricorder. "Not just any phaser burn, either."  
Intrigued, Chakotay took the instrument and turned it toward the metal. The   
readings caused his eyebrows to rise in disbelief. "Romulan disruptors?"  
"Sure looks like it," Ayala said, nodding once.  
"Well," Chakotay said slowly, as much to himself as to anyone else, "isn't that   
interesting?"  
^*^*^*^*^*  
(Day 5, Early Evening, On Voyager)  
Harry dropped onto the bench, drenched with sweat. He wiped his face with a   
towel and watched Marla sit beside him, looking equally exhausted. "Tell me   
again why you wanted to do this?"  
"It's good exercise," Marla said, draping a towel around her neck.  
Velocity was good exercise, and usually Harry liked the game. He'd won the last   
tournament, replacing Seven as the ship's champion. But this wasn't what he'd   
been hoping for when Marla called him. "You aren't getting enough exercise on   
the foraging team?"  
Marla had been getting plenty of exercise on the foraging team, but it still   
wasn't alleviating her tension, nor her need to keep doing something to keep her   
thoughts at bay. She said nonchalantly, "I thought maybe you needed the   
exercise, to relieve your boredom."  
Harry had told her during a hurried lunch two days ago how boring he found the   
ore extraction. A good part of his restlessness with the mission was because he   
wanted to be gone from this system. They were so close to home now, and he just   
wanted to get there before another disaster could delay their arrival. He also   
knew Marla felt none of the same anticipation. He gave her a mock leer. "There   
are better ways to exercise."  
Marla chuckled. Harry knew Tom did it much better, but when he delivered those   
smarmy lines, she always laughed. He liked to see that, especially since she   
done so little of it recently.  
"I really am sorry your mission has been so boring, Harry."  
Harry shrugged. It hadn't been that bad, and there was the potential silicon   
lifeform. Sciences couldn't verify whether it was alive, and they hadn't seen it   
again, or anything else like it. But the moon would be listed as a prime site   
for further Starfleet exploration. "I suppose there are worse ways to spend a   
few days. Though I didn't get to discover a new civilization like you did."  
Marla snorted. "I tripped over it, literally. Besides, it's not a new   
civilization. Chakotay's sure it was an isolated settlement, probably an outpost   
of some kind."  
"Well, it's still your discovery. Looks like you chose the right team after   
all."  
Marla heard the wry edge in Harry's voice. He'd been a little hurt a few days   
ago when she'd chosen the foraging team over his team. She'd told him it was   
because of the possible impropriety. Though he'd argued that their relationship   
wouldn't be a factor since it wasn't a critical or dangerous mission, he'd   
accepted her decision. And she'd left it at that, knowing very well his argument   
was sound. She hadn't wanted to tell him the truth--that she'd felt the need to   
put some distance between them so she could start preparing herself for what was   
to come.  
But she'd hated seeing his disappointment. She dropped a hand on his leg.   
"Harry--"  
"Hey, I figure sometimes it's good to try new things."  
Marla nodded at his crooked smile, relieved. "I actually did enjoy it. Well,   
except for the bugs."  
Harry's lips twitched at her exaggerated shudder, though his tone was serious.   
"As long as you weren't trying to avoid me."  
"Of course not!" Marla managed to sound indignant, while feeling guilty inside.   
"Why would you think that?"  
"Probably because I've barely seen you during the last few days."  
"Harry, we've been on different away teams and sometimes on different shifts.   
Add to that keeping up with our normal duties, and there hasn't been time."  
Harry was aware of all that, but they'd always made time for each other, no   
matter how hectic their schedules were. Until recently. Part of him wanted to   
avoid the subject, but it was there between them. Again.  
No, not again. It had always been there. "Marla..." he shifted to face her   
directly. "I know you're worried about getting home."  
Marla's hand slipped off his leg. "Harry--"  
He didn't give her a chance to deny it. "You've been tense for the past week,   
ever since we made that last jump successfully."  
"I've had some...things on my mind."  
Harry sighed and tossed his towel on the ground. "Marla..."  
"Fine," Marla snapped. "I'm not looking forward to getting home. You already   
know that. Would you be if you were me?"  
Harry shook his head. "No, I probably wouldn't. But the Federation is still   
rebuilding from the Dominion War, and Starfleet has other priorities right now   
besides Voyager's crew. They also know everything we accomplished in the Delta   
quadrant-- all of us--and that we're considered heroes in the Federation. It's   
not going to be as bad as you think."  
Harry had said that before, and Marla knew he believed it. She wanted to believe   
she and her Equinox crewmates would be exonerated for their crimes based on   
their exemplary service on Voyager. But she didn't expect it, and it wouldn't   
even be right. The best they could hope for were dishonorable discharges, and   
that would still be an impediment to any advancement--  
"You're also forgetting the most important thing."  
Marla met Harry's gaze. He was looking at her with that tender, affectionate   
expression that always made her feel weak at the knees. "What?" she asked   
softly.  
"Whatever happens, and I do mean whatever, we'll face it together."  
Marla felt tears fill her eyes at his earnest tone, and she blinked them away.   
He'd told her that more than once too, not just in words but in actions. He was   
a good man, and a generous man. He'd willingly sacrifice his career for her,   
because he always put others before himself. No wonder she loved him so much.   
But if she let him give up his dream, she would be forever responsible for his   
regrets. And he would have them, if not immediately, then later--  
"Marla." Harry touched her cheek to get her attention. He hated it when she drew   
into herself. He accepted it, but he hoped someday, when she felt more secure,   
she wouldn't feel the need to do it. "I mean it. I'm going to be there with you.   
We're in this together. In the meantime, there's no point in borrowing trouble,   
as my mom says. Or missing out on time we could be spending together right now."  
Marla realized he was right. After that last successful jump it had suddenly hit   
her that their time on Voyager was truly winding down, and she'd been   
desperately trying to stay busy so she wouldn't have to deal with that   
knowledge--so busy that she was wasting what precious time was left. Part of her   
still thought it would be wiser to pull away now, but in her heart she knew it   
was already far too late for that. It was better to make the most of their time   
left on Voyager, whatever came later.  
She leaned forward and kissed Harry hard on the lips, surprising him. He looked   
at her, eyes wide, and she smiled. "Let's get out of here."  
Harry stood immediately. "How about dinner in my quarters? We can relax and have   
a quiet evening, just the two of us." His lips quirked. "Just no more extreme   
sports tonight, okay?"  
"None?" Marla asked archly.  
Harry grinned. "Okay, maybe one." He draped his arm around her as they walked   
out, glad that the tension he'd witnessed over the past few days seemed to have   
left her. He'd told her before how lucky he felt to be with her, and how much he   
loved her. He still wasn't sure she completely believed him. If words weren't   
enough...well, he'd just prove it to her when they got home. "Do we need to stop   
by your quarters for anything?"  
Marla hesitated. He'd asked her often to stay the night, but she rarely did.   
He'd also told her that she was welcome to leave some of her things in his   
quarters, and to come and go as she pleased. When she'd demurred, he'd joked   
that she didn't have to act like a visitor in his life. She couldn't tell him   
she was afraid that's exactly what she was.  
"Marla?" Harry asked as the turbolift opened.  
"Yes," she said. "I do need to stop by my quarters."  
The smile that spread across Harry's face was radiant, and his open delight   
warmed Marla's heart. Right now she wanted nothing more than to bask in that   
wondrous smile she knew was just for her. Everything else could wait.  
*^*^*^*  
(Day 5, Evening, On Voyager)  
"Jen, over here." Megan Delaney waved to her sister from across the mess hall.  
"We saved you a seat!" Megan, along with Angelo Tessoni, Tal Celes, Noah Lessing   
and Sam Wildman were sitting at two tables they had pushed together at the back   
of the room, under one of the larger viewports. It was a favorite spot of many   
crewmembers -- they often met there before or after shifts -- to discuss the   
day's assignments or events, work on reports, compare notes on away missions or   
to just relax and unwind. Neelix had learned early on in their journey to leave   
a pot of coffee going at all times for the captain but he soon realized that   
others enjoyed being able to come to the mess hall any time for a hot or cold   
drink, a light snack, or even a off-schedule meal. He was determined to make   
sure that everyone felt welcome there and there was always something 'on the   
counter' for the crew. He had often expressed pleasure that they felt   
comfortable enough to 'hang out', as Tom Paris put it, in his domain.  
"Hi guys, seen any lava sharks recently?" Jenny asked as she approached the   
table. "Thanks Angelo," she said as she settled herself into the seat that   
Tessoni offered her.  
"I should pull this chair right out from under you for that remark, Delaney,"   
Angelo retorted, and they all laughed.  
"We got another message from Robbie in the latest transmission, Jen." Megan   
said. "He graduated."  
"He did? I didn't really think he'd do it so quickly."  
"Yup." Megan laughed. "Our baby brother the phud."  
"The phud?" Celes asked.  
"It's an old family joke," Megan explained. "Once, when Rob was very little our   
mother decided to have a very formal dinner party."  
"And she thought it would be nice to have hand written invitations," Jenny   
continued. "Robbie was just learning to read and he would read anything he could   
lay his eyes on."  
Megan took over again. "He was watching Mom as she wrote them out, and reading   
each one aloud as she completed it. He was doing fine until he came to the one   
addressed to our uncle Phil, who was a professor at the University of Vienna at   
the time."  
Both women continued together: "To Mr. Phillip Delaney, Phud."  
Sam, Noah, Celes and Angelo laughed in appreciation and both Delaneys chuckled   
at the memory.  
"No one's ever let him forget it," Jenny said.  
"I can't wait to see him, I just can't wait." Megan sighed. "I can't believe   
we're almost there... almost home. I think the next few weeks are going to be   
longer than the last eight years."  
"I think you're right," Sam Wildman agreed.  
"I'm not so sure about that," Tessoni said. "I have a feeling it's going to go   
very quickly. Too quickly for me, anyhow."  
Sam put the cup of coffee she'd been sipping down and looked carefully at her   
crewmate. "You're worried, aren't you? You and the rest of the Equinox crew will   
have a lot more to face than welcoming relatives." She paused for a moment and   
reached across the table to pat his hand. "I don't blame you, Angelo. I think   
we're all going to have a lot to deal with when we get home. Some of us far more   
than others, of course."  
The rest of them nodded in agreement.  
"I know that as much as I'm looking forward to seeing my husband and his family,   
it's going to be an adjustment being married again. I mean I can hardly wait to   
see Gres, but..."  
"I understand, Sam," Megan chimed in quickly. "It's not the same at all you   
know. Oh, I can't wait to give Robbie and Mom and Dad the biggest hugs this side   
of the galaxy, but I admit I've wondered what will happen after the glow wears   
off."  
Noah Lessing nodded his agreement. "Hannah's waiting for me at home," he smiled   
wistfully as he thought of his daughter. "But the glow's going to wear off   
pretty quickly, I think. Especially for Angelo and me." He stood up. "Anyone   
want more coffee? I'm going to get another cup."  
"Sure," Jenny said. "I'd love some."  
"Me too. As a matter of fact, just bring the pot," instructed Megan, ever   
practical.  
"Oh. Excuse me, Captain," Lessing said, sidestepping neatly as Janeway passed by   
their table, PADD in hand, a frown of utter concentration on her face.  
"Oh. No. Excuse me, crewman." Janeway looked up and smiled. "I'm afraid that was   
my fault. How are you, Noah?"  
They reached the counter together.  
"Um... I'm fine, Captain, thank you."  
"I understand you've been acquitting yourself very well recently. Mr. Kim   
mentioned he was particularly pleased with your performance on his mining team.   
I've made a note on your record and you can be assured I'll make sure Starfleet   
knows how well you and all the other Equinox crewmembers have done on Voyager."  
Lessing thought Janeway seemed to be looking rather longingly at the coffee pot   
he had picked up.  
"I... uh... thank you, Captain. You can't know how much that means to me. To all   
of us." He watched her for another moment as she hesitated over the jug of   
orange juice Neelix had left in the cooler on the counter.  
"Would you like to join us, for a cup of coffee, Captain?" he asked her,   
surprising them both with the invitation. "This is a fresh pot, and I'm just   
bringing it over there." He indicated the group at the table by the window.  
Janeway looked at the PADD in her hand, and thought of the piles of PADDs   
waiting for her on her desk. She smiled at her obviously uncomfortable crewman   
and didn't hesitate for another second.  
"I'd love to," she said. "Lead the way. But I think I'll have something   
different to drink." And to Noah's utter surprise, she poured herself a glass of   
juice, picked up a plate of what looked like chocolate chip cookies and followed   
him to the table under the window.  
*^*^*^*  
(Day Six, Night, On the Third Planet, Archeological Site A)  
It was well past midnight when Chakotay finally stumbled into the small tent he   
was using as temporary quarters at site A. He had erected it about ten meters   
beyond the work tent in a spot that was close enough to let him respond if   
called, but far enough away to avoid the nighttime work lights. With so little   
time left, he wanted to work as long as possible - he could sleep later, on   
Voyager. Bright lights had been erected at both sites so the night shift could   
continue.  
He removed his jacket, heavy work shoes and hat, but didn't bother with the rest   
of his clothing; it wasn't as if he had to face inspection in the morning. He   
collapsed on the thin mattress and closed his eyes, suddenly aware that his   
muscles ached and his eyes were burning, even when closed. Keeping his eyes   
shut, he touched the combadge still on his chest. "Chakotay to Janeway."  
::Janeway. Heavens, what time is it?::  
"Late," he said. A sudden suspicion blossomed. "You're still in your ready room,   
aren't you?"  
::I told you I had a lot of work to do.:: Chakotay thought she sounded just a   
bit irritable. ::How's it coming there?::  
"Good. We found something interesting this evening. It looks like this village   
was destroyed by Romulans about 275 years ago. We've found several examples of   
metal scorched by disruptors."  
::I thought you found that at the other site. Is it really that surprising?::  
"The other site is much more recent than this one. It means the Romulans came   
here twice and destroyed what they found."  
::That is interesting.::  
"There are so many unanswered questions. Have you looked at the report Paris and   
Carey filed?"  
::Not yet.::  
"They found some of the same symbols we've been finding here. It's odd, and not   
just because this site is about 500 years old while the equipment had been on   
the moon for 3,500 years. We just aren't finding anything to show significant   
technology in this site. It looks like a small agrarian community. There's   
nothing to indicate they would have posed a threat to the Romulans, even two   
hundred and fifty years ago." His eyes opened and scanned the darkness of his   
tent, looking for answers. "Why would they destroy this place? Why not just   
annex it and make it part of the Empire?"  
::Who knows why the Romulans do anything?:: He heard her yawn across the link.   
::Sorry. I guess I need to turn in. You know as well as I do that the Romulans   
are one of the most paranoid species in the galaxy. Obviously they felt   
threatened by the people on the planet. It would be nice if you could figure out   
why.:: She yawned again. ::I am definitely going to sleep now.::  
He smiled. "Miss you."  
::Me, too. I'm sorry to curtail your fun, but I need you back by 1700 tomorrow.   
That will give us about a day to finish Headquarter's demands before we jump   
again.::  
"I'll be there. Sleep well."  
::You, too. Janeway out.::  
She sounded tired, he thought as he relaxed into the mattress, and her voice had   
the strained quality that signaled a headache. He shouldn't have challenged her   
now. She had so many things to cope with, it was unfair - and possibly a little   
mean - to deprive her of her beloved coffee. Somehow, he would have to find a   
way to call the whole thing off in a way that allowed her to win.  
However, he was far too tired to figure that out at the moment. Closing his eyes   
yet again, his mind dropped into stillness and he felt himself drifting toward   
sleep.  
::EMH to Chakotay.::  
The voice slashed through the peaceful dark and startled him out of his   
near-somnambulant state. He shook his head to try to clear the cobwebs away,   
feeling a little slow. "Yes, Doctor?"  
::I'm at site B. I think you should get over here. We've found something.::  
He knew he was sleep-fogged, but even so, this was an unsatisfying reason to   
disturb him. "Can you be more specific?"  
::Not really. I think you need to see this for yourself.::  
The Doctor sounded uncertain, which was unusual enough to capture Chakotay's   
attention. "All right. I'll be there in a few minutes." He pulled his shoes back   
on and stepped outside the tent. "Chakotay to Voyager," he said with a quick tap   
on his combadge.  
::Yes, Commander?:: the voice of Chris Rollins replied. Rollins or Kim usually   
occupied the big chair on the third shift.  
"I need a transport to Site B, as close to the Doctor as possible."  
::Understood. Stand by.::  
In just a few seconds, he felt the familiar tingle of the transporter and found   
himself standing in front of the EMH near one of the excavated trenches. Several   
people, including Jim Morrow, Hugh Murphy and Amanda Lang were working nearby.  
Chakotay hadn't spent as much time at this site as the other; it was more recent   
and therefore of less interest to him. Looking around, he could see that he   
might have made a mistake. The team had uncovered some very odd structures   
beneath the topsoil.  
He turned back to the hologram. "I didn't realize you had re-joined the   
excavation team, Doctor."  
"There was nothing for me to do on the ship at the moment, so it seemed like an   
opportune time to conduct the biochemical analysis of the soil at this site and   
to continue documenting the dig for my history of Voyager. I'd rather work than   
deactivate. Besides," he added, "not only was this team sorely in need of   
leadership, but the captain seems to be in a rather touchy mood at the moment. I   
don't know why she chose now to give up caffeine, but withdrawal is clearly   
making her irritable. I offered some medical support, but she insists that she   
can cope without help."  
Chakotay chose to skip over that and focus on the issue at hand. "What did you   
want me to see?"  
"It's down here." The Doctor led him down into one of the reinforced ditches   
that had been carefully expanded into a larger area. In its center, a circular   
base of metal and stone was exposed. Although filled in with solid dirt, it   
looked as if it extended some distance underground.  
Chakotay hunkered down and looked at it closely. "A chimney?" he speculated   
quietly. "Or a shaft, like a Jefferies tube? It's too small to be a room."  
"We've found five of them," the Doctor said. "They're all linked together,   
twenty meters below." He handed a PADD to Chakotay.  
The monitor showed a schematic. The five vertical towers were each connected to   
a horizontal pipe. The five pipes stretched westward, merging two at a time   
until they were a single large pipe that led into what looked like the square   
foundation of the large building that the foraging team had identified.  
"We took some fairly extensive scans of the area about an hour ago," the Doctor   
said as Chakotay studied the design. "The pipes were originally laid in the   
bedrock, and some reasonably large pieces are still intact. The diameter is too   
small for this to be intended as a transport system for individuals." When   
Chakotay still did not respond, the Doctor frowned at him. "We could have   
discovered this days ago if we had used the ship's scanners instead of   
tricorders."  
"The ship has other priorities," Chakotay said, so distracted he didn't notice   
the EMH's attitude. There was something about the pattern of the pipes that was   
familiar and he felt he ought to recognize it. He pointed to the space where the   
conjoined pipe disappeared into a large rectangular area. "What about this area?   
Have you found anything here?"  
"Very little. Some small fragments of metal and ceramic. Nothing identifiable.   
It's all on the table." The Doctor turned and looked out toward the site. "When   
the Romulans destroyed this place did a thorough job of it. Except for a few   
stones and those pipes in the bedrock, there's almost nothing left."  
Chakotay stared at the schematic on the PADD. The Doctor's words made him feel   
more certain than ever that he ought to recognize the pattern, but nothing was   
connecting in his brain. He was tired, he realized. Running a hand across his   
eyes, he said, "I want to take a look."  
They walked over to the large tent set up under the lights that allowed them to   
work at night. It was similar to the older site in that it had multiple tables   
set up for artifacts, but only two were actually in use and of those, one held   
containers of coffee and water. With another large twinge of guilt, Chakotay   
drew a cup of coffee and took a slow sip.  
As he looked over the recovered artifacts, he saw that the Doctor had not   
exaggerated. There were less than two dozen fragments spread across the table,   
the largest of which was the size of his thumbnail. "The phrase 'slim pickings'   
comes to mind," the Doctor said wryly.  
Each piece had been tagged, with notation of the location where it was found,   
its composition and the estimate of its age. At a glance, Chakotay could see   
that everything was falling into the same time frame, between 200 and 250 years   
earlier -- nothing any earlier, and nothing more recent. Then one of the   
fragments caught his eye, and he bent for a closer look.  
The metal piece seemed to be from a disk with an original diameter of about six   
centimeters and a depth of no more than a centimeter. Although it had been   
brushed carefully, some dirt still clung to the raised edges of a design. As   
Chakotay studied it, he realized the dirt was helpful in highlighting the image.   
It looked like a piece of a bird's wing.  
The puzzle suddenly fell into place. Chakotay straightened and turned to the   
EMH. "Let me see that PADD again." He looked at the schematic and realized that   
each juncture of pipe occurred at a precise thirty-degree angle. Even the final   
connection, which he would expect to be at 90 degrees, was tilted to achieve a   
thirty-degree connection.  
Chagrined that it had taken him so long to grasp the significance of this vital   
clue, he hit his combadge. "Chakotay to Voyager."  
::Yes, sir?:: Rollins responded.  
"I need the ship's transporters to pull something out of the bedrock here. You   
should be getting the precise coordinates now."  
::Yes, we've got them. Oh, I see. There's some kind of pipe. It's pretty well   
fused into the rock, Commander. I don't think we can get you a clean section.::  
"Do the best you can and transport it here. Chakotay out."  
The Doctor looked at him with excitement. "You think we'll learn something from   
the pipe?"  
He nodded. "I think that, if we're very lucky, we'll find plasma residue with a   
35% pergium and deuterium blend, and evidence of antiprotons."  
"Antiprotons? But antiprotons would haven dissipated centuries ago."  
"Yes, but antiprotons used in a disruptor can linger for hours after a disruptor   
is fired - long enough to create a pattern in cooling rock."  
"That's only true of Romulan disruptors," the Doctor said, and then   
understanding dawned. "But we already know the Romulans destroyed this site -   
the phaser scorches on the duraplast came from Romulan weapons."  
"Yes, we know they destroyed this site," Chakotay said slowly, "What I think is   
that they built this site in the first place. I think they used disruptors to   
lay the pipes in the bedrock."  
"But what-" the Doctor started to ask, then broke off as the shimmer of a   
transporter beam suddenly illuminated the ground in front of them. In moments, a   
length of rock cut into clean right angles about a meter long, a half meter   
thick and a half meter deep sat in front of them.  
"Thank you, Mr. Rollins," Chakotay said through the combadge. "Nicely done." He   
hunkered down, knees and thighs protesting. "Doctor, can you find a hammer and   
chisel, a wire brush and a tricorder, please?"  
The Doctor turned immediately but even before he had the tools, Chakotay   
carefully brushed away the loose dirt and bent to look at each end. The circular   
pipe was clearly visible, a black circle set in solid gray, although the   
interior of the circle was a slightly lighter color, as if the contents of the   
pipe had solidified into something more porous than the surrounding stone.  
Within seconds, the Doctor returned with his hands full. Chakotay took the   
tricorder from him first, and aimed it at the hunk of rock. The EMH peered over   
his shoulder to see the results. "You were right," he said in an awed tone.   
"That's fossilized plasma inside the pipe."  
"With a 35% pergium and deuterium blend," Chakotay said, gratified that his   
theory was holding up. Federation knowledge of Romulan history, natural or   
otherwise, was limited and this site could be a font of new information.   
"Exactly the formula use by the Romulans in the Romulan-Earth War of 2160. That   
was how the Earth forces were finally able to track enemy ship movements - the   
plasma residue was distinctive." He nodded. "The pipe itself is extruded   
duraplast, also consistent with Romulan technology of that era."  
"Couldn't another race have the same technology?"  
"Perhaps, but the layout of the cooling towers - that's what those chimneys are   
- is classic Romulan engineering. Everything merges at a thirty degree angle.   
That is typical of everything we know about Romulan design of that era."  
"I didn't know that."  
"No reason why you should. It's not something you'll find in the average medical   
database." He took the hammer and chisel from the Doctor. "I'm going to crack   
off a portion of this rock from under the pipe, and when I do, I'm willing to   
bet you we'll find the imprint of antiprotons at the molecular level."  
"From what I hear, you have a sufficient number of bets pending at the moment,"   
the EMH said dryly. "But just for the sake of argument, if you do find   
antiproton imprints, what will that prove?"  
"That Romulan disruptors were used to melt the rock before the pipe was laid,   
and that means, they were the builders." He had to fight control his excitement.   
The Federation had very little knowledge of Romulan history, natural or   
otherwise, and this site could be a font of new information. Looking at the data   
from the tricorder, he placed the chisel in the precise location he needed it   
and struck it with the hammer, creating a dent of about two millimeters. "Hmm.   
Looks like this could take a while."  
"I'm not going anywhere," the Doctor said. "I'd like to run a biochemical   
analysis once you expose the pipe. It appears to be just about the only artifact   
that survived destruction." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "Does that strike you   
as odd?"  
"That the Romulans were thorough in destruction? No, I can't say it does."  
"They weren't just thorough, they were meticulous, much more so than they were   
at Site A. And if your theory is correct, this site was a Romulan outpost." He   
looked puzzled. "Why would they obliterate their own settlement?"  
It was a good question, Chakotay realized, and he stopped his work to consider   
it. "They might have been trying to make some kind of political point."  
"Perhaps," the Doctor said. "But when I consider what I see here, the phrase   
'surgical strike' comes to mind. And that makes me wonder if they were worried   
about something more tangible than politics."  
"Such as?"  
"A plague." The EMH looked grim. "Some kind of biological threat that required   
drastic measures to contain it."  
Chakotay froze in mid-swing and looked up in alarm. "A plague?"  
"Possibly." Seeing the alarmed expression on Chakotay's face, he said quickly,   
"Don't worry, Commander, I've already scanned that sample. There's no sign of   
any organic life, down to the molecular level."  
"You're certain?"  
"It's not a mistake I'm likely to make."  
Involuntarily, Chakotay shivered. "All right. Just the same, I'm not going any   
further with this until I have a containment field around it. And I'd like you   
to run a medical scan on anyone who has worked at this site all week."  
The scientist in him was able to acknowledge dispassionately that a plague was   
indeed the most likely explanation for the fact that the Romulans destroyed   
their own site. But as a man, he found himself hoping for a different   
explanation. A plague so furious that it prompted an annihilation as complete as   
this was a fearsome thing. He raised a quick prayer for the souls of those who   
had died here, and then stood.  
As he rose, another thought struck him. This had been a military outpost, he was   
sure of it. Now that they had identified the cooling towers attached to the   
large building, he realized it was similar to other Romulan sites known to the   
Federation. Had it been a site for the development of biological weapons that   
suffered a contamination? Had it been the victim of a biological attack? Or had   
the plague simply occurred naturally?  
In the time remaining, he was not going to learn the answer. Perhaps, now that   
the Federation and the Romulans were allies, he could come back some day for a   
more extensive search. Or perhaps the Romulans knew what had happened and would   
be willing to tell them. Even so, he wanted to learn as much as possible before   
they had to leave. He turned and headed for the tent to find the portable field   
generator that he could use as a containment field.  
*^*^*^*^  
Epilogue  
Day 7, Voyager  
"Commander Chakotay!"  
Chakotay turned and saw Naomi Wildman running toward him. "Slow down, Cadet," he   
said with a smile. "I'll wait for you."  
She flushed a little, but immediately began walking quickly. "Do you have a   
minute? I wanted to ask you about the planet."  
"I'm on my way to meet with the captain, but you can walk with me if you like."   
They started down the corridor. "What's on your mind?"  
"I was wondering - did you find anything that connected the sites on the planet   
to the moon? Were they the people that went there?"  
He shook his head. "We didn't find anything conclusive, at least not yet. But my   
instinct tells me they weren't the same people."  
She looked downhearted. "Why not?"  
"The timing's wrong, for one thing. The artifacts your team found on the moon   
were more than 3,000 years old. Our best estimate is that Site A was first built   
500 years ago." When her head lowered slightly, he went on, "If we'd had more   
time, I think we would have found evidence of some much older sites elsewhere on   
the planet. We just finished some deep scans, and they show concentrations of   
iron and aluminum in regular patterns about three miles beneath the surface.   
That could be the remains of much older cities."  
Naomi's eyes widened. "So, it's possible that the people who went to the moon   
did live on the planet, but then they disappeared, and some other people came   
along."  
He nodded. "And then the Romulans came, and then they left. It's quite a   
mystery, isn't it? Perhaps the data chips your team brought back from the planet   
will shed some light on it. But they're so fragile that I want to wait until we   
can use the paleontology lab at Starfleet Academy to try to open them."  
"Do you think they would let me help?"  
"I don't know. I'm not sure they'll even let me help. Professor Van Der Voort   
was always very fussy about who he worked with." He smiled at her. "You really   
enjoyed this, didn't you?"  
She nodded. "It was a lot of work, but it was worth it. Walking on that moon was   
such a thrill. We looked into the past, back to a critical piece of that   
people's history. But it's sad to think they might never have gotten any further   
than their own moon. I wonder if any of them are still out here somewhere,   
living on another planet?"  
"It's possible. I hope so. Have you ever heard about the Roanoke colony?" When   
she shook her head, he said, "It was one of the first European attempts to   
establish a colony in North America. A ship left to get supplies, and when it   
returned a few months later, every single colonist had vanished. The only clue   
was a word carved into a tree - 'Croatoan.' No one ever figured out with   
certainty what that meant. It could be that this planet is another Roanoke   
Island."  
They had reached the turbolift. "If you really like this type of thing, Naomi,   
you should think about a major in archeology or history instead of Engineering."  
"Why not all three?" she said with her usual confidence as he stepped into the   
lift.  
Chakotay smiled. Ah, to be so young again, when everything is possible. Though,   
knowing Naomi, she just might do it all.  
Once on the Bridge, he went quickly to the Captain's ready room. Tuvok had   
already arrived. "Ah, good," Janeway said as he entered. "You're just in time.   
There have been some text only, heavily encrypted messages coming through in the   
data stream. We've got orders, gentlemen." She handed each of them a PADD.  
Chakotay skimmed the message and looked up in surprise. "They aren't saying   
much." The message simply provided coordinates where Starfleet wanted Voyager to   
emerge from its next slipstream jump, then instructed them to wait at that point   
to rendezvous with another ship.  
"No, they aren't," she agreed. "Perhaps they're worried about the message being   
intercepted or monitored by the Romulans."  
"That is likely," Tuvok said, but he was frowning as he stared at the PADD.  
"I know that look," Janeway said. "What's wrong?"  
"They are expecting us to travel more than 3,000 light years in a single jump.   
It is not logical. They know what happened the last time we attempted a jump   
that size. And they know the condition the ship will be in when it emerges from   
the slipstream." He looked from her to Chakotay. "Why would they require us to   
take such a risk in friendly territory? A jump half that size would place us   
safely beyond Romulan borders."  
"There must be something we don't know. Something they can't risk the Romulans   
hearing." He shook his head. "This entire week has been about things we don't   
know. Every piece of data just leads to more questions."  
The Captain sat silently for a moment considering. "Whatever the reason, the   
orders are clear. We're about to make a big jump, and it's going to require a   
great deal of concentration from everyone to make it work. We'll brief the rest   
of the staff in fifteen minutes. When we exit slipstream, I want to be in the   
right place and the right time, and I want us functional as quickly as   
possible."  
She rose. "Let's go. The sooner we get home, the sooner I get a cup of real,   
hand-picked, deep-roast coffee." Chakotay stepped aside and let her pass, and   
she favored him with a pointed look as she walked by.  
They took their normal stations and he started to key a message to his   
departments when he felt the Captain's hand on his arm. Silently, she raised her   
eyes to where Harry Kim was deep in concentration at the Ops station. Then she   
flashed a quick smile, her eyes twinkling, and leaned back in the command chair.   
"Mr. Kim," she said, in the tone of voice that every junior officer on Voyager,   
and most of the senior officers, dreaded.  
Harry's head jerked up. "Captain?"  
"I hear that the ore assignment wasn't exciting enough for you."  
The young man flushed deeply. "I, uh, well, it was pretty routine, Captain."  
"Yes, but this is Starfleet. Routine is part of the job."  
There was dead silence on the Bridge as Harry Kim stared at his commanding   
officer, his thoughts absolutely clear on his face. Wasn't it this very captain   
who had once told him "This is Starfleet - weird if part of the job?" And then   
it dawned on him that he was being teased. "Yes, ma'am," he deadpanned. "I think   
I've got that part down now."  
"Good," Janeway said dryly. "Because we have one more routine to get through, if   
you won't find it too mundane. Are you prepared to coordinate the slipstream   
jump this time?"  
He beamed. The responsibility for coordinating all the last minute details   
necessary to initiate the slipstream was one she had trusted only to Chakotay   
and Tuvok before now. "Yes, ma'am."  
"Good. You have ten minutes before the staff briefing."  
Chakotay leaned close to her and spoke softly. "You shouldn't tease him that   
way."  
"Wait until he finds out that this is the last jump," she replied, smiling. Then   
the smile faded and she leaned back in her chair. "The last jump."  
He also sat back and repeated her words to himself. The last jump. They would   
finally find out what was waiting for them.  
-finis-  
  
  
  
Credits:  
Prologue: Christina.  
Act One: Scene 1, Penny; Scene 2, Janet; Scene 3, Christina  
Act Two: Scene 1, Rocky; Scene 2, Julie; Scene 3, CyberMum; Scene 4, Penny  
Act Three: Scene 1, Julie; Scene 2, Mary W.; Scene 3, Janet; Scene 4, Rocky  
Act Four: Scene 1, Penny; Scene 2, Julie; Scene 3,CyberMum; Scene 4, Penny  
Epilogue: Penny  
  
  
Coming next: Rendezvous in Sector ... The galaxy is extensive. Most of it is   
unknown by the many members of the Federation. One ship, the USS Voyager, has   
seen more of the galaxy than any other.  
Now her mission is nearly finished, and Captain Janeway's promise to bring her   
crew home is about to be fulfilled. 


End file.
